a worn red coat sits in the corner
of a small, hole-in-the-wall little mom&pop,
which sells wares, chairs, rings, and teddy bears,
and the occasional worn red coat.
A kind of person would smirk and say,
the ‘red’ is more of a ‘scarlet’, isn’t it?
And the vivid sanguine of it would clash and
cover. Blind and smother.
Appear gaudy, flamboyant, something-or-other.
So it sits, the aging fabric, upon an aging chair.
Boxes sit upon it,
and its edges trail the ground here and there.
The buttons have lost their luster,
their black shine long smothered
by dust, and fingerprints, And time, which
passes almost leisurely
almost mockingly, painfully slow.
Until the door opens, and the small copper bell
and in walks a kind of person
whose interest lies beyond what the eyes
And he spots a sleeve, a scarlet sleeve,
that trails the ground, covered in dust.
He walks past the lines of glamour and gold,
the inviting names and packaging,
the promises of quality and satisfaction.
He pushes away the boxes and picks
up the coat,
and through the layers of dirt and time
He sees stories and love and a life.
feels the guarantee of warmth in its fabric,
and despite its well worn demeanor,
he knows it will wear well.
he carries it to the front of this little mom&pop,
puts down some money, maybe a bit more,
smiles, nods, and walks out the door.
The dirt is brushed off, the stains washed clean,
and buttons, though rough with age, emit a glowing shine.
On a cloudy, cold day, in a park by the lake,
the coat envelops a young woman, protecting her from the chill,
and next to her stands her husband,
who admires his wife; whose smile brightened
and her eyes twinkled in delight
when she looked upon the coat
she received that night.
And anyone who saw her that gloomy, rainy day,
could only smile at the splash of colour,
A vividness that cut through the gloom,
whether scarlet and gaudy, or red and bright.
and despite the wear and the dust,
and people unkind, and being hidden from sight,
the coat warms the shoulders of trust
and lives in the light.
July 8, 2013