My Grandmother's Scarf

I love the cold:
I can wear this long brown acrylic muffler
With the tatty fringe
My grandmother once wore
With a matching cloche
That was just too plain
Until she sewed on a yellow pom-pom
That looked like a dollop of sunshine
She pulled together.

There she would stand
Not at all like a young flapper--
Free-spirited, open-minded, and on occasion
(and by her own account) intemperate--
But like a lavishly built grandma in the 1970s
Who carried in her heart
All the magic of those earlier times--
The deep joy of being who she was
And burning bright.
You could see every delightful moment she had ever known
In her eyes that shone brightly from under that cloche.

It's cold out, finally, and I love it.