A Winter Coat
Embedded in the texture
of the fading past
ever present in the pattern
of the fabric, ever present
in the material of memory
in which I wrap myself
when the wind turns chill
when the sunflowers offer up
their last harvest breath
like fading incense
from the swinging sensor
in a cold cathedral
last winter's coat opened
in Fall of the year
holds forgotten crumbs
of crushed amber leaves
which when freed present
a gift never to be forgotten
About the Author: Sam Culotta is retired and living in Southern California. He is the author of two books of personal essays: Sleeping With Lumbago, and Clueless In Paradise, as well as James Dean Is Dead, New And Collected Poems. His poems have appeared in recent issues of Rockvale Review, As It Ought to Be, Cathexis Northwest, Backchannels, Courtship of Winds, and others.
Image Credit: Charles Rowbotham “Pink Coat” Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 