My bluejeans pockets were stuffed with secrets
and the echo of “hullo” from across the Grand Canyon.
The secrets sometimes felt like granite boulders.
The secrets sometimes felt like valuable bearer bonds.
The echo of “hullo” felt welcoming.
The echo of “hullo” projected me to the Grand Canyon rim.
My jeans have patch laden knees and seat.
I donated my jeans to the resale shop that benefits AIDs research.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney