Jacket

The Jacket

Folding laundry tonight
it donned on me.
One of the random revelations
I get in my day to day.
Not like I haven’t been doing
the laundry for the past five+ months.
Maybe I’ve even thought
it before.
But I realized it.
It hit me.
I’m not folding his clothes.
Mark’s clothes aren’t in the laundry pile.
There are still in the closet.
Along with all my stuff thrown about.
Sometimes as I reach in to
search for a shoe,
I will brush up against
Mark’s jacket
hanging in the closet.
It’s quite possibly the
softest material made.
Reminds me of him wearing it.
When my hands were cold
as they so often are
I’d like to wrap my arms around him
inside his jacket
and touch his back with my frozen fingers.
He would jerk away
belt out this
ridiculously contagious
high pitched laugh
and would maybe, just maybe
let me keep
them there to get warm.