If old raincoats could talk

Once, drunk and out dancing
I slid off a bar stool
he didn't even notice, I was carried home
and left to dry out; on a chair.

We used to stride on Lakeland fells,
wind lashed lake side paths,
keeping close we kept each other warm,
I held mint cake he had the guide map.

Now if we go walking itís late at night,
heís ashamed to be seen with me
and feels the cold rain passing through thin skin,
I hold dog biscuits and scented bags.

A cig in the garden if Iím lucky
we never really go out any more,
when we do it always seems to rain,
anyway that mirror in the hall makes me look tired.

Ohhh but one more chance
to feel warm sun softening my shoulders,
thrown down in long grass,
picnic blanket pillow talk,
too hot to walk, dusty tracks
arms wrapped round his neck,
Written by Razzerleaf
Author's Note
If my old raincoat could talk, what would it say?
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 7 reading list entries 3
comments 12 reads 206
Ahavati Orc_Pirate_68 butters
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
Today 10:58pm by _feral
Today 10:34pm by mysteriouslady
Today 10:19pm by Viddax
Today 10:08pm by Razzerleaf
Today 9:57pm by _feral
Today 6:58pm by dislecksic