A Throw-Back

Stately shawls of an especial color parade

on the boulevard. Like a holiday

on which those Proustian ladies

show off their finery,

we aspire to that rare dignity

of turn of the century elegance,

now losing itself in a drab grey sameness

amongst the millions. Oh, how I crave

for that Romantic spectacle, for some odd

stranger to exclaim, “That’s so beautiful!”,

and not to be the subject of denigrating looks

and sub-vocal, but slyly obvious snickers,

to speak out loud, as prominent as a poster,

as blatant as a billboard.