whose coat is this

I don't know the coat
that hangs
in the hall closet.
it's not mine.
it doesn't belong to me.
there is nothing
in the pockets.
no name, no tag, no clue
as to who may have
worn it last.
yet it hangs there
against my coats,
between summer and winter.
rain and wind,
each season to its own
cloth and form.
i'll keep it for now,
perhaps the hands
that own it
will return one day,
maybe not, but I have
time to wait.