Golden Legs & Good Night Kisses

A Story, living, Poetry, TweetSpeak PoetryPrompt

Saturday nights my little

sis and I got belly low,

crawled up the stairs

and spied as momma

walked by – square

8687SDdance frills, pale blue & stark white;

glittery, golden legs. Hair spray, perfume,

penciled eyebrows, drops of pink hue rubbed

cheeks to ears. Blended. She grabbed

her leather purse – braided strap & push-

button clasp. Her jacket fit snug (like they did

in those 80’s daze). Us girls jumped

up for goodnight kisses, hugs good-

bye. I don’t remember a sitter (which doesn’t

mean much as we remember what struck our fancy

or our fear); I know for sure the feel of coarse

ruffles on my outstretched hand as she turned to go –

layered, layered, layered, waist to thigh. Amazing.

 My sis and I went to our beds with lipstick

smudged across cheeks.  I

pulled covers to chin as the Saturday night

door swung shut. Click! Just down

the road, in a dance hall, she

stoops low, reaches high, twirls, spins

with other mothers (and fathers,

I reckon) to do-si-do the night away.



My childhood memory was inspired by a photograph and writerly directive

at this week’s TweetSpeak Poetry Prompt. Go there.

The people are neat-mosquito.





6 thoughts on “Golden Legs & Good Night Kisses”

  1. lschontos says:

    Love this Darlene. I was right there with you. You’re doing some amazing writing!

  2. Floyd says:

    I did my share of dancing in those days… I’m afraid mine weren’t so innocent. That grace and redemption are some powerful forces…

    • I reckon we’ve all got a story or two or three, aye? But by God’s grace and His redemption, our slates are clean, clean, clean.


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