MY FATHER'S COAT

I stepped out
last night after
my family had
gone to sleep.

There was already
frost on the windows;
so, I took
my father’s coat.

It had been
many years since
I last wore his
heavy clothes.

Always a blanket
or tent as a child,
my father’s shirts
and jackets would
swallow us whole.

As I took into the
December night, however,
the sleeves fell short,
the shoulders hugged mine.

And I realized that
it was not the coat
that would overwhelm me
as I grew older,

it was the man.