Anyone who wears a black puffer jacket, so sensible and restrained, should be choked on their own down — or that of the now-naked ducks — and puffed up like a puffer fish, till they fly away like so many clouds of doom. Why add to bleakness? Match yellow with aubergine, orange and berry crimson. Clash those hues like cymbals in the smug faces of constraint.
PS Cottier
Now I could have revived the title of my series of "Nasty little poems" for that, as it's a tad cruel. It's not aimed at those with no choice as to what they wear, but at the sensible middle class. There's something about the temperature dropping in Canberra that makes people dress in black and grey. Way back when I lived in Melbourne I used to wear a lot of black, whereas now I tend towards the citrus and purple. I am reminded of Jenny Joseph's great poem "Warning". Perhaps we need to scream at the sky as we get older, like so many cockatoos. Or at least wear cresty jumpers.
PS Cottier 
So true. So right. So colour-filled (with rage).
Trying to edit out the rage () as it is not right but can’t do it. So here is my wish to delete!
Or if not rage, the tapping of long fingernails on a tabletop in a rhythm that suggests no other.