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A Reprise
And now I come to wear your clothes, shirts
that no longer fit, you barely wore in the end
arranged in piles to divide and sort, of
three sizes—which was the measure of you?
I’ll accustom my tastes to them, necessarily
choose their cuts and colors, assimilate snaps
wishing for buttons, unbegrudged a missing
inch of sleeve and draw your skin upon mine,
assuming your hide, pattern and hue—
don this sudden wealth overwhelming
my life, this unbidden inheritance
now become shrouds of the everyday.
~~~~
Copyright 2019 Sean Sexton. From May Darkness Restore

Sean Sexton was born and raised on his family’s Treasure Hammock Ranch and divides his time between writing, painting, and managing a 700-acre cow-calf and seed stock operation. He is author of Blood Writing: Poems (Anhinga Press); May Darkness Restore: Poems (Press 53); and Portals: Poems (Press 53).
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Thank you, Sean. In a world where a crude shallowness is the rule, it’s a comfort to see a poem of tender regard.
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Well-put, Alfred. Thank you.
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A reprise indeed! To write a poem so concise and yet so brimming, so overflowing, is mastery of the craft. Thank you!
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Thanks, David!
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Ah! What a lovely poem, Sean.
I thought, for a moment, of Daisy in The Great Gatsby:
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Thankyou Lisa! Miss you.
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A very good poem, Sean. Only a cowboy woud assume a “hide” and that’s a great image. I love it!
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He’s been gone since September of 2014. I had a long apprenticeship, 60 years! He was someone you’d wish to spend 60 yearswith!
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Thankyou Jim! Your thoughts are always so incisive!
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Great one to read. I love how you “open the box” in that final line, to expand the poem into new possibilities.
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Just a wonderful poem that goes for broke, walking that knife edge of sentimentality where all the best poems reside to my mind.
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I completely agree with you, Robert!
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Grateful to be broke in your regard Ser Robert.
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Donna and Christine:
I so appreciate your kind words !
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lovelovelove
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Such a poignant and masterful poem, Sean. I’ll be revisiting it.
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Such tender, lonely wisdom in this poem, Sean — and its resigned and peaceful tone, but trembling a little with such seamless melancholy, such calm acceptance — as if these lines had been spoken to us in one, long sigh. And that question: “which was the measure of you?”
How quietly poignant. I love this poem.
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Nothing to add to that. Yessss. “[…] this sudden wealth overwhelming / my life, this unbidden inheritance / now become shrouds of the everyday.”
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Rosemary: You make my day! Thankyou!
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Thankyou so much L-ABB! You help me see what I’ve done.
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“Shrouds of the everyday”. Good poems evoke so much more than first thoughts. Thank you.
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Thankyou Lola and Barbara!
It was that moment in my life. One never forgets.
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Such a tender piece, Sean. So apparently literal, so not.
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Nice one, Sean!
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