Random Jeans

a thread
hanging on by a prayer at the edge of the intricate swirled pattern
on the side of the worn pocket
torn at the edge from the constant habit of making the corner into a thumb rest. going down,
passing the thighs to the knees,
soft and lighter than the rest
showing the familiarity she has with this pair of well-loved pants.
one side has a small hole-
I wonder, was it from rough housing with her brother
or tripping on a log in the park.
for I will never know
because I am just a by-stander
admiring the companionship that she has but won’t know for quite some time,
until she is going through her belongings many years later and wonders
why she kept them.
until she examines them closer
and sees the love and memories I see now.
for I know, because I had a pair of those as well.