Writing a Poem about my Legs While I Wait for New Tires to be Mounted on My Car
A poem by John Dorroh

Writing a Poem about my Legs While I Wait for New Tires to be Mounted on My Car

I like how my legs feel when I get out of bed in the morning,
how the muscles yell my name for stretch & pull. I feed them
protein & water, pack them in warm jeans for the trip we’ll take
around the back yard, down to the trail beside the stream. I feel
my blood traveling along their lengths, those proud knee caps
out front, announcing my presence.

A lady from the neighborhood wheels past my house in a souped-up
motorized chair. A canary yellow triangular flag with a smiley face
attached to the top of a flexible white pole fluttering in the breeze.
She always says Hello, handsome…have a good day! And I feel
ashamed for complaining about my toothache.

Jeannie tells me once a year that I have nice legs, those
of a much younger man, perhaps a distance-runner. She failed
to mention it the last time I saw her. I had on shorts & a T-shirt,
so I know she saw them.

I haven’t seen the lady who used to wheel herself past the house
in several years. Maybe she moved. Maybe she passed away.
I’m hoping one morning that I see her one more time, that she
walks out of that chair into the crisp blue sky & says to me
as she flies over the house, Good morning, Handsome….I think
your legs are devine.

About the Author:

John Dorroh’s first poem was written on a bathroom wall with he mother’s red lip stick. Perhaps his writing has evolved since then. His poetry has appeared in over 125 journals including Feral, River Heron, North Dakota Quarterly, Pinyon, Poetry Breakfast, & North of Oxford. Four of his poems were nominated for Best of the Net. He likes to travel and find new foods.

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