OBIT [The Purple Hoodie]
The Purple Hoodie–died on September 17, 2011,
along with the frayed ends of its strings.
It will never again warm another body
on a brisk autumn evening.
The smell of burnt wood on the fabric,
cozy and safe, will slowly turn to ash.
The sputtering of a car engine will always
remind me of you just like the feeling
of a cold breeze against my cheek.
I wonder if you were just as torn
as the ends of the hoodie strings?
Was it excruciating, or was it like
slowly walking into a dream?
Was it like a weight being lifted off,
or was it like decaying walls crumbling?
The color that once looked like lavender
in the middle of summer, now only looks
like the beginning of a tender bruise.
Whenever I hear the crisp crunch of a fallen leaf
under my foot, or see the puff of gray
that escapes my lips on a chilly day,
I’ll think of the pastel tone of that baggy home
and what I would give to see my little sister beaming again.