Your youngest sister
wears your blue
and white coat now,
my son; it brings her
some comfort
since your
sudden death.


She zips it up close,
to keep her warm,
thinking you
are still there inside,
to keep her safe.


I remember
you wearing
that white
and blue coat,
on your way
to work or back,
or out for the day
in all climes.


They were
the good days,
good times.


You use to zip it up
close to your chin
to keep the cold out,
the warmth in;
hands in the pockets,
elbows back,
like some large bird
about to take off
on a long flight.


You have taken off now;
set your soul's keel
to the open sea
of eternity.


I sometimes dream
of you at night,
see you as you were
before the stain
of death approached;
your smile spreading,
your blue eyes bright.

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