My Time (A Poem for Summer Amin in Honor of Fall)

Step aside, it’s my time.

You had your time, Mr. African Wool Scarf
Some would say (OK, me) that you wore out your welcome
You lucked out though
You were out every day for months
“Snowmageddon” was your friend…your very best friend
And each day you would say to us “Jambo.”
I was convinced it meant FU
In some strange African language
I silently sent you death wishes..
And later learned it meant a friendly greeting in Swahili
Sorry about that…cultural misunderstanding.
Friends?

And no can deny your raw beauty Floral Silk Skirt.
But that high voice and energetic, positive spirit
It is enough to make me puke.
Did you invent the word chipper?
And who says “TOODALOO!” but you?
Every time you dash out for brunch
Or sit in Dupont Circle
It’s Chitty Chitty Chitty Chat the whole time
I know because I can hear you from this closet
You typically take Little Black Knit with you though
Which I appreciate;
You know how Knit can get so down
He brings us all down with him.
So thanks for that.
We have spent many Summer and Winters together Floral
But let’s face it..
When we are apart in Spring
It’s a really nice break.

And you Itty Bitty Black Bikini
Hi.
Remember that crazy night this Summer when we were paired together?
I never would have thought THAT would happen
ME….Tall, Brown Boots
And YOU…Itty Bitty Black Bikini
But it worked
And we looked good
I know you said it would never happen again
But you told me you like to lie (which is cool, I accept all of you)
So I hold out hope
That sort of passion needs to live another day
Anything else is just cruel

And now?
Well, I feel the breeze at night through the window
The air is cool
And Big Suzy Sweater left today
She always goes on right before me.
But what if I don’t have what it takes?
I am older now
I have scuffs and my zipper gives me trouble when it rains
While Classic
I can’t compete with new, trendy Motorcycle Boots
But I have to trust that what is meant to be will be
And I bring value, darn it
And my self-worth is NOT defined by the number of wears
You know what, all you old Classic Tall Brown Boots, rise up
Rise up I say!
And speak your truth
You are unique beings and don’t need anyone to tell you what you are worth!
Join me now in a chant that goes like….(trails off)
Oh thank God! I am being worn.
I knew I would be.
See you later suckers (mainly Motorcycle Boots)
It’s my time!