The Strip Show
Dressed to the nines the envy of tall pines,
This tree on the sidelines others outshines.
Flashing new colors of red, orange and gold.
Proud as a peacock, standing tall and bold.
But then a gust removes a garment stitch.
Brings back a previous embarrassing glitch.
Showing how pride is fleeting and fragile.
When the dazzle travels and it all unravels.
If only these limbs would bend at the elbow.
I could avoid those looks with raised eyebrows.
But instead I stand there bare
Pretending others won’t stare.
Of all the times to loose
Your treasured clothes would choose,
Not when the temperature drops.
But a different season one would opt.
Alast my duds arrive in buds
And once again I blend in with studs.
Clothed in a velvet green suit
A forest green fedora to boot.
Carefree Summer of long days and short nights.
Kids climbing up to retreive their lost kites.
Or sweethearts leaving their initials in bark.
Surrounded by that universal trademark.
Then I remember what previously happened.
When in horror my shirt lost a button.
I recall last Fall with a sheepish grin.
Oh my goodness, here it goes once again.
Copyright © John Grindle | Year Posted 2020
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