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As the World Fades...To Katy Bertrand's previous piece     Unconventional ManifestationTo Katy Bertrand's next piece

Wearing my sweatshirt I am warm,
but still aware of the cold air
around me.
The cold still exists,
but there is a
wall of warmth between
me and it.

Comfort of hood and
draw strings.
It is not necessary
for me to pull the hood
over my red hair,
or clasp the plastic tips
of the Navy blue draw strings
and tighten them.
It is enough to feel the hood
against my upper back,
the drawstrings popping up
and down
against my chest
as I walk.
The security of knowing
they are there
and that I may use
them at any time
is enough.

No one else can wear
my Navy pull-over.
They try and steal it
from me.
They want my hood,
my drawstrings with
the plastic ends.

They take hold of the
drawstrings with the plastic ends
and yank,
with great force,
in an attempt to strangle me.
But no one can pull and tie them
just the right way.

They grab at the sleeves,
they pull the hem,
they try and tear it.
Use cutting remarks
like newly sharpened scissors
             to try and alter it's appearance.

I laugh softly
as I stand with the wind
whipping about me,
enveloped in warmth,
and assurance.
I laugh at jealousy,
at ignorance,
at assumptions,
at misunderstandings
(not wanting to understand?).

Don't they know K-mart
has hooded sweatshirts on sale?

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