Jacket

That jacket
The one you wore throughout your childhood
Beet red
Rips at the collar and elbow
A black elk head emblazoned on the back

I see it still
See you in it the night you stole the lightbulb from the carport
Not considering our fort in the woods had no electricity
Your bright red jacket could have been a dead giveaway
But you were always too quick to get caught

I remember the bait you carried in that rusted old bucket
Beet red jacket trudging down the path
Thinking you were going to fish in the bayou
Without a pole, or net, or boat
Just a pailful of smelly old worms

I’d share my stash of Halloween candy with you
Your costume that year a biker in a red jacket
You said you liked the cinnamon ones best
But was that just because you knew I didn’t like them?
You seemed only to have whatever was left over

I remember your tremor when the streetlights came on
Knowing you were expected home
I thought it was leaving play behind that upset you
Never knowing it was the idea of home that made you shake

I wish I had that jacket now
I could sew the torn places for you
Make it look as sharp as you deserve
But nothing can fix what happened to you
And you don’t need a jacket anymore