The Coat

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He wears the coat,

it bends him over

as he shuffles along

the gritty road.

Aches and pains merge with

petty disappointments,

deep sorrow is the thread that

binds it all.

Niggling regrets

crowd his shoulder

whispering nay-say

in his ear.

Yet the thing weighing most

is wrong he’s done to others,

his conscience is bundled

on his back

like a tumour of wet rags it

weighs

him

down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then one day he wakes and

his arms slip easily

from the coat of

human condition.

He laughs like a boy

and dances wildly

free at last from

earthly troubles.

Pen Avey — June 2017

 

 

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