Swaddled in this
black bomber jacket all weekend,
I am safe from the Big Sur chill.
It's too large for me.
And that's okay. It was Paul's.
I bought it for him
years ago at American et Cie on La Brea
before he went crazy
and decided to leave us
way before his time.
I like how it snuggles me,
like he's in there too giving me a hug.
It's the only piece
of his clothing I have left.
I've given away the rest:
his favorite plaid shirts
that smelled of sweat and smoke,
the torn jeans he salvaged
from second-hand stores,
his worn brown Doc Martin oxfords
that took him miles on his manic escapades,
and the tan suede jacket
he had me repair over and over
because he couldn't let it go.
Like this jacket—
I'll never let it go.
It has stains I can't remove
and threads unraveling,
My son is gone.
But, this jacket—
try and take it from me.
Just try.
Madeline Sharples
The Muse Media
Copyright © 2004
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by mamazine.com with permission of the author.
Madeline Sharples has worked most of her professional life as a technical writer, proposal process manager, and grant writer. She began writing poetry when her oldest son, Paul, was diagnosed as manic depressive and has continued as a way to heal since his death by suicide in 1999. Her poetry has appeared in The Compassionate Friends newsletter, ONTHEBUS, The Great American Poetry Show, and will appear in an anthology about grief entitled Feel Better in the Mourning. Sharples also co-authored a book about women in nontraditional professions called Blue Collar Women: Trailblazing Women Take on Men-Only Jobs
(New Horizon Press, 1994), co-edited the poetry anthology The Great American Poetry Show, Volume I (The Muse Media, 2004), won third prize in the Redondo Beach, California Exceptional Artists poetry contest in November 1999, and has published four poetry chapbooks. She lives with her husband of 35 years in Manhattan Beach, California.
