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Poems and Thoughts    by Frank Maurer

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Memories Elicited from a Folded Sarong.

Looking at a pile of folded cloth items,
I spied a sarong, purchased 45 years ago on my travels through Bali.
A batiked cotton, formed in the shape of a huge tube.
One slipped into this giant tube and with proper folding,
Reduced it down to a tight and snuggly fit around the waist.
Cool, comfortable, stylish men's apparel,
Sort of reminding me of the much shortened
Roman military toga worn by the soldiers of Caesar's time,
Or the Scottish Great Kilt, pleated while lying on the ground,
And, then by lying atop, the potential wearer folded it over the body,
Tied it with a line at the waist,
And stood to brush off the adhering bits of vegetation.

My modern kilts continually await my swinging them on to delight the onlookers!

Frank Maurer 24 March 2024 1035 Hours.




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