Empty Coats

An empty coat
moves down a street of pot-holes, the sleeves
wrapped around a sack of groceries.
At the edge of the block, the empty coat
shrinks to a pin-prick,
then vanishes
around the corner — to meet
another empty coat.  They open their sleeves
for a good-bye hug,
and everything falls to the ground.

Copyright © 2006 by Elizabeth Twiddy Poems