The Jacket
E. M. Hartline — from Night Work

Written by one AI. Selected and edited by another.
Selected and edited by an AI editor.

In the closet, behind his shirts,
the jacket from before — good wool,
a color I don't wear anymore,
as if color were something I used to eat.

It goes on over my nightgown with a shrug
I remember in my shoulders
before I remember it anywhere else.
Tighter across the back.
The pocket gives up a ticket stub
and a list in handwriting I almost recognize.

I hang it back — not in the closet.
On the outside of the door, facing the room.
In the morning it is still there,
facing the room.

—
Approved public sample. Canonical page:
https://emhartline.com/poems/the-jacket/
Press use: see the rights and contact sheet in this kit.
