"AREN'T YOU COLD DEAR?"
My Jack Murphy pulled tightly across my chest
Thick gloves to banish knuckles from turning blue
I smiled in amazement at youth.
Do they not feel the cold?
The girls in their trendy attire.
I shuddered and trembled for the poor lasses
As they tottered in vertiginous heels
Ankle strapped against black tights. (pantyhose….LOL)
Yet miniscule shorts
Clung to meatless thighs.
“AREN'T YOU COLD DEAR?”
I wanted to yell.
Oh to be so foolish again,
When fashion dictated
Whether we should freeze at the height of winter months
Then swathe ourselves in thick creamy angora
On a blisteringly hot day.
Fashion died for me
When my hold-ups……didn't!!
My cheeks flushed in embarrassment
As I scurried to a corner
And untangled myself.
Go against the grain my dears
Strike a blow for eccentricity!!
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