Sunday, October 9, 2016

Relic

We are taking everything out of the house.
This includes your coat--
rough green-brown with large buttons, hard to manipulate.
The weight, as I lift it, surprises,
but hanging from my shoulders, I see
how men could walk in it, the thick fabric falling
below their knees.
I am a usurper in this heaviness
(Midwestern woman in the coat my grandpa wore);
I know only the lint of it:
Maui sunsets which still couldn't rival the Illinois farm's,
hot showers sneaked in the officers' quarters,
comrades who presented an enemy's teeth at a hospital bed, and
the enemy's wallet with faces of family.
I know when Japan surrendered everyone went out howling
but you sat and thought.



2 comments:

  1. A beautiful, vivid, accomplished poem. This reader would cherish a collection of your poems in book form. And if such a collection were 100 poems long, it would serve only to whet the reader's appetite for the hundred and first!

    The meaning of line 5 is clear, but it does contain a dangling modifier: "hanging from my shoulders, I see ..." Perhaps "as it hangs" or "while it hangs"?

    Please don't let that micro-quibble obscure the fact -- the fact! -- that this is an excellent poem, and perhaps among your very best.

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  2. Mmm, good point. I'll have to look into changing that. And thanks for the encouragement!

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