He told me that <br />he had seen me <br />on the cover of a dime store novel; <br />that I looked a lot prettier in person. <br /> <br />On our first date <br />he brought my mother <br />a box of cigars <br />and my father <br />a dozen used golf balls. <br /> <br />The trunk of his car had no lid <br />and you could see the road <br />on the passenger side beneath your feet. <br /> <br />He had charm. <br /> <br />He stood under my bedroom window <br />and tied a note to a brick; <br />it broke the window <br />set off burglar alarms; <br />the police came <br />and he apologized. <br /> <br />We went to dinner and he smelled like chicken poop <br />from putting barb wire around the chicken coop. <br /> <br />I told him pigs will fly before I married him <br />and he showed up the next day <br />at the hardware store <br />where I worked <br />with a pig in the flatbed of a pick-up truck. <br /> <br />He called me out <br />strapping wings on the pig <br />yelling: <br />“Pig to fly on runway nine <br />Pig to fly on runway niner.” <br /> <br />He had charm. <br /> <br />Showed up one Saturday <br />wearing a gingham dress <br />over his jeans <br />saving he was saving up <br />to buy it for me. <br />“How does it look? ” <br />he said, “wanted to be sure.” <br /> <br />I was sure. <br /> <br />Married him. <br /> <br />Oh, he still has charm; <br />lots of it rubs off on me.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-gingham-dress-beth-s-memories/
