Finding the essence and history that makes a poem already written somewhere in our minds. |
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RumagingThoughts unspooled and words as yet unwritten,rumaging in closets, some unopened fifty years, pulling down memories, like old clothes Wondering if they’ll go together, fabrics complimentary or better thrown out, dragged into the street Several hats I wore no longer fit this head, the scuffed and well-worn boots now pinch my toes Yet scarves of remembrance, still warm to touch, a soft shirt also fits, jeans comfortable with age Some of it may enhance my current fashion Perhaps an outfit here, something worth the time of grabbing, pulling off hangers, some dropped, others brushed off, held up against the light of now Knowing if the combination doesn’t work, at least there’s warmth, a covering of nakedness |
![]() This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection THE SMELL OF TWEED AND TOBACCO available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats. |