You put away your winter wardrobe
the first weekend of May,
zipping your warm wools and heavy tweeds
inside plastic garment bags
that huddle stiller than livestock
throughout the grinding summer and smoky fall
in the cool back shadows of our walk-in closet.
Your sweaters and long sleeved blouses
get special attention,
folded with tissue paper pilfered
from the gift boxes of Christmas past,
then carefully stacked and stored in Rubbermaid bins
with sachets of lavender or jasmine
tucked in just because.
You work with such patience and precision,
smoothing seams and folding sleeves,
until winter is boxed away and
a space empty as March yawns in our closet,
awaiting the fabrics and floral prints
of spring fashions freed from hibernation
to bring color back into your days--
You stand in front of the mirror of your dresser
in pastel underthings, thinking,
one eye on me as you sort and sample
the many moods of May
in dresses that sing of summer
months to come--yes?
for Spring has irresistibly bloomed again.
© by Mike Orlock.
Used with the author’s permission.
Mike Orlock is a retired high school English and American History teacher who splits time between the Chicago suburbs and a vacation home in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin. He has been married 37 years to his high school sweetheart and inspiration, Liz. His short stories, poems, and reviews have appeared in a variety of publications such as Reporter-Progress newspapers, The Peninsula Pulse, VerseWisconsin, TriQuarterly, and the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets annual calendar.
you absolutely caught the descriptive action and all the feelings of your wife's changing wardrobe from winter to spring.
Posted 04/27/2014 08:28 PM
nice poem! so discriptive and loving.
Posted 04/26/2014 11:25 AM
You fold the seasons in lyrical fashion. A total joy to read.
Posted 04/26/2014 12:32 AM
The intimate interplay of the "you" and the narrator provides a solid base for the colorful clothing.
Posted 04/25/2014 11:46 PM