she adored shoulder pads
tucked beneath her brassiere straps
the eighties rage
her build was delicate
not like her niece
who resembled a linebacker
if she didn’t slice the shoulder pads out of her fashion finds
Nina appreciated how the foam pieces squared-off her petite form
on her body, clothing draped as it was meant to
she had style and a talent for accessorizing
my aunt lived with grace, style and beauty
she remained dignified and lovely
even near the end
her eyes
gorgeous, dark and wide
unlike stacked boxes of jewels
and endless drawers of shoulder pads
irreplaceable gems
I miss their soft, elegant glow
still

Red Wolf

When I was little, Nina had a little fox stole that sat on the top a cushy chair in her bedroom.
Happy Birthday, Nina. Today, she would have turned 83.