Shirt

In a room above a pub I lay my things down.

I lay my things down after business meetings.

I lay my things down before I lay myself down

For another day of business meetings.

In this room above this pub, I opened the wardrobe.

Yes, in this room and above this pub

I opened the wardrobe, my bare feet on the soft carpet

Isolated from the busy life below.

In this room above this pub, in this wardrobe

There was another man’s shirt, hanging.

In this room, the pub, the wardrobe, the shirt was pink

With navy-blue stripes running down.

This shirt, this shirt, it hosted

The man’s belly and his coffees, and his worries and his toil.

this shirt was in transit with this man

As he made his way, made his way,

He made his way through life.

This shirt was now here.

The man was not.

I was.

In this room above this pub I was standing on the carpet

In front of the wardrobe, looking, thinking

What I should do.

I did nothing. I let the shirt rest.

And when I left, I left the shirt.

In this room above this pub.

Posted by: Paweł Kowaluk