the brown raincoat, with its
wide
collar
and deep pockets
ala Humphrey Bogart?
the answer is yes.
i miss it now,
having left it on the train.
how many
storms
did it keep me dry,
how much wind
did it protect
me from?
years of weather
that i walked in.
the belt, the buttons,
the length of it all,
falling
below my knees.
pockets
full of ticket stubs,
and playbills,
receipts and numbers
on the back
of matchbook covers,
waiting for
love to begin.
the brown
raincoat,
it was everything it
was meant to be.
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