Widow dressing can be a joy
but some days it is little more than ho
hum necessity and at times
it is just downright depressing

Much of the complication comes
when choosing apparel for somber moods
or fits of pique
when the favourite florals paisleys
stripes or polka dots
become irrelevant or irritant
what items do you reach for when
woebegone
bereft
inconsolable
what is the palette for that?
and you dare not respond black or grey
sackcloth nor terry to soak up
the flood of salty waters

And what items are appropriate for
exuberance
temporary optimism
or persuading yourself that you’ll be okay?
how many days in a row can you
wear your partner’s home
knit sweater?

So much depends
on whether you go out
or not
or remove your outer jacket
and this preliminary description
does little to get at the multiple other
considerations
affecting the daily
task of widow dressing
in an age where being garbed
in flowing robes of black
is not de rigeur
a fact both good and bad
for as time passes
other people are apt to forget
or at least to assume
or to wish
the widow might have adapted
and no longer might
benefit
from compassionate assistance
in determining the level
of flamboyance fitting
the sartorial expression
of her state of being
or of her disguise
on any given day
or part thereof 

Every widow will
have her very own style
and anguish
the Widow Wyile was never
a fashion fiend
she favours a bohemian je ne
sais quoi
mixing and matching
elements from different ages
all united by a certain
practicality such as pockets
and breathability
layered to keep
her temperature just so
be she active
or still