The clothes in my
closet hang like
thin men at attention.
One is wearing my woolen
jacket, another my Parisian scarf.
The all stand facing the same way.
And people wonder why I don't get sleep
I don't even know what the
paper soldiers, feet from my head,
are saluting.
2 comments:
love
Maybe they are saluting the army of fish campers that are still hanging out in your closet?
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