On Tuesday nights, I participate in a writing workshop hosted by Beat-era poet, Clive Matson. It’s called 2 Busy 2 Write. It’s supposed to start at 7 but it often takes us until 7:15-7:20 to get going. Someone reads something for the writers to derive prompts from, usually poetry. Sometimes it’s prose. It’s often thoughtful and reflective of current events. Other times, it’s rooted more in the natural or spiritual worlds. This past Tuesday someone read an excerpt from a book. The excerpt centered around one person’s childhood experience of their family’s traumatic Christmas one year. I selected a couple of poems from Poetry Foundation. Both of them were seasonal poems:

• November for Beginners by Rita Dove
• Autumn by Grace Paley

I wasn’t particularly inspired so I wrote about what I wore to work that day.

I needed three outfits today 

I woke up freezing 

The frigid air had numbed my hand 

It was stiff and swollen  

with the loss of circulation 

My first ‘fit had to be warm  

To combat the chill in my body 

And that of the brisk air  

in which I walked  

the short few blocks  

to where I earn my keep 

Bundled in my new green winter coat 

the color of spring leaves 

I decided against the hat and scarf 

Surely it wouldn’t be THAT cold 

Hands snug in new gloves 

Fingers clothed in a soft black void 

Knee high boots, wide around the calves 

Black leather with faux buckles 

That jingled with every step 

Reminiscent of glamorized pirates 

Plundering the seas 

My fingers stayed frozen 

I still felt the chill of the air 

Throughout the walk 

I should have worn the scarf  

Or at least the knit cap 

More aqua than green 

At work I traded my heavy 

Double breasted coat 

For my oversized  

Ankle length sweater 

A midnight black 

just a shade lighter than  

the void my hands had worn 

As the day wore on 

The chill wore off  

The temperature grew comfortable 

The sweater was hung 

Over the overcoat  

The lightweight pullover sweater 

Medium grey with faded black  

Flowers and leaves 

Was soft and cozy 

The long, skirt,  

as dark as my boots 

Swished and swayed 

With every step I took 

Smoothly and gently 

Brushing against my thighs 

As I moved through the 

Open office spaces 

In the midafternoon 

Without warning  

It felt as if the heat kicked on 

Suddenly I felt overly warm 

With my skin itching 

Under the soft layers 

Wishing I had on sandals 

And not the thick socks 

Cushioning my feet  

inside the boots 

I wondered why I didn’t have 

An elastic to lift my hair 

Off the back of my neck 

Stepping back outside, 

once the workday was over, 

the sky was grey and overcast. 

I was grateful 

for the overcoat 

and that I had dressed for the chill. 

lem 11/14/2023