Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash
January has been mild for weeks, but
snow slants now in cold morning air
through barren trees beneath suburban
sky grey as a galvanized trashcan.
This might be the day to winnow charcoal,
navy, or grey wool pinstripes, starched white
shirts, striped silk ties, rich brown wingtips.
Today, five years past retirement.
Trousers hung from clamped cuffs retain
sharp creases; a 30-year pin glimmers on
a smooth lapel beneath thin plastic.
No firm offers came to edit or consult.
One suit plus two shirts and ties should
suffice for funerals or weddings. Strips
of blue, maroon, and yellow silk might
brighten a men’s Goodwill clothing rack.
Recent poems by Raymond Byrnes have been published in numerous print and on-line journals, including Main Street Rag, Third Wednesday, Rat’s Ass Review, and Better Than Starbucks and have been featured as Editor’s Choice in six publications. For many years, he managed communications for the U.S. Geological Survey’s National Land Imaging Program. He lives in Virginia.
