You stood on my doorstep one night
asking for shelter in another language,
but the weather was fine.
I found some wine while you got out of your wet coat
and all your other clothes that were soaked as well.
But the weather was dry. The water was salt.
Layer by layer, wool from the Shetland islands,
a linen shirt that was made in Italy,
and a scarf you claimed a woman in Greece had knitted.
I could sense her scent, spicy and sweet.
I took you into my bed and warmed you
for days with my body.
You never told me the name of your ship
but left your coat when you went.
It never dried up all together.
Comments on: "You left your coat" (11)
I love this Ina.
Your mind works in mysteriously wonderful ways
Love and hugs xx
Hi Christine,
Does my mind? * big grin *
great to see your comment! Thank you very much
Love and hugs xx
“You never told me the name of your ship
but left your coat when you went.
It never dried up all together.”
Brilliant metaphor.
M
Hi kvennarad
thank you very much!
Extraordinary! In a good way, of course.
Yes it does! *even bigger grin*!
Xxx
lol
This poem, for me, illustrates your unique talent for writing grounded in reality (‘wool from the Shetland islands, a linen shirt that was made in Italy, and a scarf you claimed a woman in Greece had knitted.’) and edging on the mysterious, even mythical (‘You never told me the name of your ship but left your coat when you went. It never dried up all together.’)
I loved it!
I am so glad you like it, Diane, thank you very much!
I am so glad you like it, Diane, thank you very much!