The closest
I could come to
the muumuu of my
aging hippie friend
was a Chambray dress
hidden on the clearance
rack at Walmart.
Prefaded, loose and long.
As I wriggled my arms
inside its buttery fabric
and let it fall
over my head,
it granted me instant permission
to be free.
Free from importance.
Free from appearance.
Free from responsibilities.
That muumuu
enveloped me in her
Joy-to-the-World
world,
whisking me away
from invented worries
and real ones.
