I carry a coat
Filled with my past
Its has old notes
Scrawled across like signatures on a cast

I have spirits living in the pockets
Demons sinking in through moth eaten holes
They whisper your name in sonnets
Convey and disclose

This cloak
Is ancient
Is heavy
The apparitions do nothing but reminisce

Mummi despised
wearing clothing belonging to the deceased
“It is bad luck to not let bhoots subside”
She spoke at me
Rather than directly to her beti
But what of the ghosts I am forced to wear mother?
When will they leave?

I will never wish words, only my actions as all syllables
   eventually fade..   Take my coat and the few dollars
as actions are worth more than just singular words...
         sleep warm with worth more than thoughts..

I carry Aberystwyth
in the threads of my coat,
in the scuffs on my boots;
the sea salt, sand swept
into the fibres.

And now I stand here
in Jardin du Luxembourg,
thinking about the bench
by the well,

I sat on looking out to sea,
watching the starlings dance,
while considering the possibility
of perhaps, one-day, maybe
living in Paris.

I measure myself
Just as you taught me:
I press against walls
So that they can mark me;
I stand next to others
And look up or look down;
I stare at reflections
Until imperfections are found.
I measure and measure,
I poke and I ****--
Until that which is measured
Is depleted and gone.

I took the pieces of our life
and I wear them as a coat
laughter painted on my face
and in my music's notes

dainty stitched embroidery
spells out
.....my dear Cherie
a quilted coat of all our dreams
I wear for you to see

I wear your red bandana
and your favorite flannel shirt
the prices of your labored hands
sent twirling in my skirt

The Faded cloth reminds me
of familiar memories
a day gone by just yesterday
sent drifting on the seas

we didn't have much money
though we never went without
we never wandered hungry
and your love was not in doubt

I'll treasure every thread you've sewn
within my closets clothes
Every button I am saving
that so carefully you chose

I hope my children wear this coat
you so gladly gave to me
with pieces of your Momma's love
a love you gave to me

I was your little baby girl
my skin a velvet piece
you comfort with your rugged hands
and press away the creases

of my  jacket ever aging
in these calluses and lines
with scars of painful tears I cried
released by stitching time

this coat has kept me warm
on coldest nights I spend alone
I always have my patchwork coat
no matter where I roam

my painted quilted family coat
it always takes me  home
Love you Daddy

Cherie Nolan © 2016