Duffel Coats
He had a duffel coat once,
so did she. They must have looked
well-matched
walking in Regents Park
that Autumn.
In time
the coat shop on Oxford Street
died of old age.
Duffel went out of style.
They wore them still.
One day
her duffel was neatly folded,
into a labeled, cardboard box.
His coat developed Alzheimer’s
in a tumble-down closet.
When they unhooked from each other,
he packed only empty pockets,
and a small bundled
of toggles and loops.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
