Ode+to+Sparkle+Jeans

="Ode to Sparkle Jeans"= by Sarah R. Blattner
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|| // Somewhere in suburban Baltimore…  // Modestly hiding on the rack, Beckoning my stare, a dazzling pair of slacks-- Tucked beneath jeans that torment and squeeze, Glinting in a sea of denim, an unlikely pair slides on with ease. For a post-baby body, a lucky find and a bargain to boot, Adorned with flecks of silver and blue. Sparkles shimmer on the pockets and hips, Shaped and stitched for a flattering, perfect fit. A new mom’s uniform, worn with pride, Fading and tearing with each diaper changing stride. Like a sentinel, keeping watch at the park; As babies and toddlers pitch sand and babble like larks. With knees ripping and cuffs tattering, My friend pleads for their retiring. She says, “A going away present, a trinket of our times together….” And I say, “A thread of my tapestry, a possession I will forever treasure.” And now tucked away in my weekend warrior drawer, Taken out only for lawn work, painting, and chores… I reminisce of nostalgic days gone by; days of strolling, lunching, and sharing lore. Yes, good times spent with friends in dear ‘ol Bawlmore. Bawlmore: Baltimore, pronounced “bawlmore” by native Baltimorians ||