Face: heart-shaped; matter-of-fact, diffident
Eyes: bespectacled; hiding, searching
Arms: thin; hands nervous with low energy
Legs: woolly socks to just below the knee;
bare calves and thighs to just below the hemline
Body: white, warm, slightly moist
Panties: hidden, flimsy; lightly fragrant with perfume or scent from nature
Pinafore: thrown on to cascade, lightly lying;
hitches up when she bends down to attend the books
on the lowest shelves
Joe Malone is an emeritus professor of linguistics, a Brooklynite transplanted long ago to a leafy little town in Bergen County NJ with California poet wife Pam and their two little-guy sons who are now big-guy sons so that the pad rings with big and little grandkids running around. Joe has been channeling poetry longer than linguistics, often struck by a vision from the Gods–bam, allakkazzaam!–or mesmerized over a pint of Guinness.