Coat by Jack Little

If I could knit, my wool would be a rainbow’s shadow
invisible to all be He. My coat would envelope the world,
I would paint the hearts of honey bees pumping sickly, dripping love.

.
My coat would hang by the knees, swishing hope
and the sleeves would swing silken promises:
“Hey! Have my coat!”

But giving does not come easy.
I cannot knit.

Creation died,
……….the moment I imagined this coat.

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