Winter Coat

My old puffer jacket

Is like an ancient cat:

Round, fat, black

Curled in on itself for warmth

It prowls everywhere

And never draws the eye.


And yet

When I look closer

It shows its age –

Thin in the shoulders

Balding in places

Shiny where its coat has worn down

A little… dare I say?



I’m not ready for it to die

Not ready to let it go

Not ready to lay it down

For its final nap

Quite yet.


My much-loved cat still lives

It goes with me

With worn fur and shiny elbows

On cold winter walks

Slinking through icy shadows

Basking in pale sunlight


It is ready

To sleep.

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