When leaves turn golden,

It’s time for the fall fashion show.

Standing between aisles of her outfits,

A woolly bear caterpillar wonders:

Which is her best look to go?

 

Who would be the best designers

For her thirteen-section gown

And her eight pairs of shoes?

Does it really matter

If wool covers top to toes?

 

Out of a rainbow of colors,

Pick out the best shades of wool,

Black for elegance,

Or brown for sophistication.

She’d better get the two.

 

Against the background of murmurs,

Cameras flash as she wiggles.

The catwalk is all hers.

Grace and authority

Linger in her pace.

 

Anxiety races through her audience’s hearts,

For the thirteen weeks of winter,

Will be decided by the intricate details of her gown.

Will their muscles ache from shoveling,

And when will seeds need to be sown?

They are desperate to know. 

 

The limelight dims. 

Snow thickness? She shrugs and smirks.

Really? Why would they make a fuss?

“As long as her heels are taller than the snow . . . .”