dress up

rummaging through my shirts
at an even pace
my closet wide and tidy
ordered like the stages of the
stratosphere or
a Sunday morning sermon.

they are each there on display
blue and grey and
black and brownish
red or white or striped and clean
all to mask my affections
all to redress the pale flesh
and course hair beneath.

i have sweaters for
cold days like this one,
and playful ties and
stout belts and even
fresh pressed slacks.
they envelop my body like
the pea green afghan
grandmother knitted me
during the Advent
while she was waiting for
the scotch pine to arrive
to dress up her ever reaching arms,
and those Salvation Army ringers
with their constant clank of the asking,
and Grandfather to come home
from his work on the road
to make sugar cookies and even better.

i rummage through my closets
at an even pace
looking for the right styles to wear
choosing again with my eyes shut tight
like a sailor at the
blackjack table or
a Sunday morning prayer.