It Goes On

It Goes On

 

these years

partitioned with timestamps

 

can be summarized

by Robert Frost’s words

 

and my hooded coat—

ice blue, synthetic fur trim

tinged with grime

 

my second skin

for an entire winter—

 

that hung from a hook

in the utility room

 

its imprint lingers against

the wood paneled wall

 

beside an oil lamp

gone dark for half

a century

 

 

 

M. Stone

 

 

M. Stone is a bookworm, birdwatcher, and stargazer who writes poetry and fiction while living in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in San Pedro River Review, Star 82 Review, UCity Review, and numerous other journals. She can be reached at writermstone.wordpress.com.