Stumbling Block
At the 4-H Fair in Amboy
my mother told me
my shorts were too short.
They had never been
too short
before, but
she saw a man
watching me
as I heedlessly
circled the rides
on the midway.
Tan colt legs, knees
bound in band-aids,
blue cotton candy
stuck to my cheek.
On my way to the goat barn
she stopped me and said
Did you see that man?
She seemed angry
and a worm of unease
uncurled in my belly.
That was the first time
I understood the male gaze
came with teeth.
Four Julys later
I mowed the lawn
in a rainbow swimsuit
with leopard spots.
When my father got home
he seemed angry.
I cut the motor
and watched his arms
windmill
then went inside
and put on pants.
When leggings came in fashion
I learned to layer them
beneath baggy jeans
wriggling free of denim
only after parking my Chevette
far from home.
You don’t know my father said
what goes through a man’s mind
when he sees you
wear things like that.
It was my responsibility
to remain invisible
to let that gaze slide
safely by. When
all I really wanted
was to be stylish
fix my tan lines
eat cotton candy.
06.19 | New Hymns