Please collect all winter coats

A poem by Richard Meier.

(from a notice in the local drycleaners’ window)

In single file, they wait the summer out,
     clean, forgotten.
Housed with them, in the silence of their folds,
     a notion (autumn)
now unthinkable. Late August,
     light lengthens, goldens –
and so starts the reclaiming, coat by coat.

Tags:poetry