Sssmaug About Ssscarves

The first scarf I ever bought; thin stripes of olive green and cream;
all the fashion fifty years ago
in Portstewart.

The Bardys bought me the elegant cream, green and navy one
on my twenty-second birthday. Chouette !
Ahhh, Paris.

Mammy got me the spotty-dotty white and green head-square
on a day trip
from Wales to Bath.

Connie spun the yarn and wove this purple scarf especially for me.
She sent it winging all the way with love
from Wyoming.

Esmé crocheted the one that looks like the sea to keep me warm by the sea
and Kath sent the green silk, all the colours of the seaside,
when I was seventy.

Fellow writer Findy sent a tasselled tour de force, amber brown and beige;
exotic much like I would like to be,
from Kerala.

The pale blue and lemon and the inky pure silk with old gold Islamic patterns;
bought on Andalucia Day to protect me from the noonday sun
in Tangier.

The lilac silk is from my husband. It’s how he sees me.

I’d laid my scarves out on the bed intent on counting and discarding some
but said to myself, I will not part with a sssingle one;
not one ssskein of them!

So easily about my neck they cling,
these hugs, these kisses; my hoard of golden
memories,
spread on my bed this tapestry
that tells me
I was loved.