Poem: ‘Clothes’

clothes

These are my favourite clothes, I
wear them for days on end.
See?
They retain their shape,
my shape,
even when I toss them
into wardrobes, or hang them from
skeletal frames, dis-
assembled, waiting for warm
odours of my living
return.

So say you’ll never throw them
out, and resist all
temptation to wash. Simply
lay them on a chair or bed – though
mark the creases,
the bulges of cotton limbs, fleshy
legs which have moulded denim,
now hanging in threads. And make sure
to study the greasy collars, precious
oils of my skin. Then take
hold of this shirt, stretch the faded
fabric in your hands and breathe in
the smell of years. Remember
the walks and our talks, when
there was only time to kill. For these
things, which may be nothing now, are
still worthy of note, the relics of
a single life
and not without right

image and poem Β© copyright David F. Barker 2013

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15 thoughts on “Poem: ‘Clothes’

  1. The scent of life πŸ™‚ Although I love the smell of clean laundry, this appeals to me. Lovely poem! Good to see you are writing again. x

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  2. Beautiful painting
    the smell of life in clothes..the life so close so loved of some one dear
    i love it they are instant mood changer
    loved the poem πŸ™‚

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  3. I love the feel of this poem, and I can understand it.

    Newly washed jeans are like strangers; we have to get to know them all over again!

    And when my tiny grandchildren have gone to bed I always pick up their just worn clothes and bury my nose into them so I can be reminded of who they are even though they have just been with me! πŸ™‚

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  4. Old clothes are like old friends who have been through such a lot with us. That’s why I find it impossible to part with old jumpers and other dated items. Still, they come back into fashion anyway don’t they::))))

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  5. Safe ro comment again; the other clearly went AWOL!

    I find a clean pair of jeans is like a stranger; we have to get comfortable with them all over again.

    When my tiny grandchildren have gone to bed I often bury my nose in their worn clothes fom the day just soI can smell their smell πŸ™‚

    Loved the poem, it made me smile too πŸ™‚

    Like

  6. Safe to comment again; the other clearly went AWOL!

    I find a clean pair of jeans is like a stranger; we have to get comfortable with them all over again.

    When my tiny grandchildren have gone to bed I often bury my nose in their worn clothes fom the day just soI can smell their smell πŸ™‚

    Loved the poem, it made me smile too πŸ™‚ And of course the painting is lovely too, very calming.

    Like

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