Second-Hand Coat

I feel
in her pockets; she wore nice cotton gloves,
kept a handkerchief box, washed her undies,
ate at the Holiday Inn, had a basement freezer,
belonged to a bridge club.
I think when I wake in the morning
that I have turned into her.
She hangs in the hall downstairs,
a shadow with pulled threads.
I slip her over my arms, skin of a matron.
Where are you? I say to myself, to the orphaned body,
and her coat says,
Get your purse, have you got your keys?
~Ruth Stone

I read this poem in English class a few weeks ago and liked it very much. I have worn second hand clothing all my life (I love thrift stores, garage sales, and hand-me-downs) and I thought this was kind of fun to think about the person that might have owned my "new" red coat.
While the three of us older girls were growing up, we were blessed by dresses hand down by girls in our church. Little girl after little girl wore the same pretty dresses with frills and lace collars. Abby, I think, was even able to wear some of the sweet dresses. Now we can't bare to throw some of these clothes away. Each dress has a story to it, just like this coat in the poem.

Posted by: Carissa