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  Maria Guzvic

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 "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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