Old Coat

27 10 2012

The scent slid in like evening tide,

familiar as the retriever on the lane,

as remote as linnets in summer grass,

but always it surfaced in the rain.

 

Apples, cinnamon, freesia. Whitebait kissing

bubbles on the surface of the pool.

 

Musk, jasmine, sandalwood. Tortoiseshell wings

flowering from cotton crypts.

 

Citrus, rose, lavender. Gutters giggling

down water in the alleyway.

Always it surfaced in the rain.

 

The trace of the potion was the pocket of a raincoat,

a tissue rested between the dark spaces. Smells

swelling in hibernation.

 

I left our past in the tissue, left the tissue in the coat, left the coat in the cupboard.

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17 responses

27 10 2012
niasunset

“I left our past in the tissue, left the tissue in the coat, left the coat in the cupboard.”

Fascinated me… so beautiful. Thank you and also Thanks for visiting my blog. I am glad to meet you. With my love, nia

28 10 2012
glynfedwards

Thanks for the praise and for moving it onto your pages. You take some incredible photos so I’m flattered the poem can reside there also.

27 10 2012
niasunset

Reblogged this on photographyofnia.

28 10 2012
redjim99

“The scent slid in like an evening tide,”

Brilliant opening line, a great read.

Jim

28 10 2012
glynfedwards

Cheers Jim. All downhill from there though!

28 10 2012
redjim99

Are you unhappy with it then? I like it as it is, the way smells are tied to a physical object. The way you need to wonder whether the coat is ever worn, or is just a dark reminder with its aroma filling the dark space inside a cupboard. Yes, nice images.

Jim

28 10 2012
glynfedwards

That’s kind. I found it bizarre how, on finding something with a familar but unwelcome perfume smell on it in a chest pocket of a coat i often wore, that i didn’t want to abandon the discovery or the scent. Like driving past a former residence but not wanting to stop or be seen there. Thanks again, Glyn

28 10 2012
redjim99

I’ve just been visiting places from twenty odd years ago, it does raise the ghosts of old friends.
http://notyethere.wordpress.com/2012/10/25/ghosts/

The smell of the North Sea, walking around old perimeters. Just seeing the names of towns on signposts, all created a melancholy that stayed for the visit.

Jim

29 10 2012
glynfedwards

Did it stay melancholic or bloom into nostalgia? I really like the final lines. Tried a few times to comment on your site but my phone or I are struggling. Will try later…maybe when the baby tries harder to appreciate daylight saving.

29 10 2012
redjim99

Ah children, gift of the gods or grandparents revenge, take your pick. We are looking after grandkids at the moment for half term. I forgot what it was like – now I remember.

I’m afraid it stayed melancholic, I have quite a few notes and photos to go through and assemble a series of poems. I’m hoping it will make an interesting longer piece of work, not a usual style for me.

1 11 2012
readinpleasure

Brilliant poem, with wonderful imagery

1 11 2012
glynfedwards

Thank you.

3 11 2012
beeseeker

Super piece of work, resonates here.

3 11 2012
beeseekerPaul

Put me in mind of a piece I had written earlier, although nothing like it (funny how the mind will jump if you let it),
it’s at
http://mucktwineandthinker.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=34&action=edit
if you want to take a peep.
Yours is much deeper, more poignant and I really enjoyed reading it.

3 11 2012
glynfedwards

Thank you for the praise, I tried a couple of times to follow the link but it kept bringing me back to the same ‘you have no right to edit this post’- if you put it on again, I’ll try again.

I loved upturning the Ted Hughes poem there though. Glyn

3 12 2012
john todaro

Lovely. Wonderful concluding line.. and I very much like this imagery:

“Tortoiseshell wings flowering from cotton crypts.”

5 12 2012
glynfedwards

thanks john, when you see your lines scissored out like that and represented to you it can take you by surprise…i suddenly like the line far more than i did previously.

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