My funeral coat
Is long and heavy
And hangs from my shoulders
Weighing me down
Like a penance
When l lift it from the closet
I am always filled
With a terrible sadness
It is not a happy coat
This coat
In spite of its weight
Is not a warm coat
Although it should be
Yet it rests on my back
Like a marble tombstone
Many graves have been visited with this coat
It has shone many pews
Over the years
Accomplishing both it would appear
With aplomb and far too frequently
Than l would choose
Bread crumbs
Cake crumbs
Flakes from sausage rolls
Have settled on this coat
A veritable tray
It has suffered tears smiles and laughter
Usually in that order
Been offered sound advice
Nonsense and downright lies
Then walked back home
It is not a taxi coat
To hang in the darkness
Like a big black Bird of doom
Sadly
Today
It is time again
To bring out my funeral coat
It is not a happy coat
This is not a happy day
-
Author:
James Stinson (
Offline) - Published: December 7th, 2022 13:47
- Comment from author about the poem: For absent friends. Too often, too soon.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 23
Offline)
Comments2
A very reflective yet somber poem. It made me appreciate being alive, thanks for the creative writing.
Thank you.
I have lost several friends (mainly girls, strangely) over the last couple of years and all under sixty.
Very sad.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.