of stopping in the village and never needing to take off the jacket    
that stores the cold that’s welcome in the kitchen
and carries the kitchen’s heat to the chilly courtyard

of taking just a quick peek out of the window
to see your car there idling no matter the season
ready to roll the moment you are,

or just hearing the sound of the motor outside
as you go through the ritual of checking your pockets
turning all you need to have into all you need to carry

Jackets exist in hopeless numbers
so when at some point yours wears out
your next one will come from someone who’s passed

and on your shoulders it will assume the shape
it assumed for years on those other shoulders
(having lasted so long it should last a while longer)

for it is not so much the brand you look at
but the cut and fit and that it shape your arms
into an arch so smooth that nothing catches

You wear your jacket like a long-sleeved sweater,
it is not a long-sleeved sweater for over a t-shirt,
it is heavy and zippered and the nylon is stiff
with a built-up layer of grease and smoke
to repel the odd spark or minor dog bite

Fancy people (down south) never wear jackets
because they call them blazers or peacoats or parkas
and need help putting them on a hanger

or they call them anoraks or furs or vests
and indoors they are far too warm
and outdoors far from warm enough,

manufactured more for the statement they make
than any action they would let you take
they are less like jackets than like masks

Of proper jackets two are enough
to give you a jacket for every season,
a winter one with lining and a summer one without,

so your jacket in the end is no more than your skin
and with other jackets is like the nakedness of angels

You wear your jacket with an eye to comfort
and find it goes best over rolled-up sleeves
and heavy-duty pants and slip-on clogs

In casual dress for work indoors
or outdoors or vacation it is the jacket
that erases borders between extremes

and brings workdays and weekends together
in a single state of ease and utility
and an absolute absence of primping in the mirror

Stopping in the village and never taking off your jacket
is a way to of never having to stay too long
while still being welcomed around the table

where you will bend forward over your coffee
and scrape your foot slightly as if for purchase
to let you push off at a moment’s notice

as your thoughts precede you down the path
up the mountain to where you saw the tracks
as much for them as for a chance
to gaze out over everything ours