In my closet of remembrances

Hang coats of many colors

Some are light and riotous, like the spring

Some, dark and heavy with

The weight of winters gone, yet I shiver

Still

I always preferred the summer

When all coats and jackets were tossed aside

In worship of the sun

And she was the only heat

I needed in the night

But I also loved the upturned collars

And the smell of leather

In the fall. And when the apple-crisp

Zephyrs blew and my hands

Tingled with the chill of memory

Then did I go to write my poems

The hangars seem to bear

The weight of more than wool

These days, and I, I find

I plead for summer always

But lonely arms find winter

In the sleeves.

04/20/2005

Posted on 04/20/2005
Copyright © 2024 Ken Harnisch