Rumpled Sweater

Gregory Betts

I wear a rumpled sweater
every night
green sleaves
tawdry wool
offering bold strings
to every autumn night
aged to the limit

the cuffs are stripped, splayed
an odour lingers
around of dogs, sweat, and forest

it is the only thing that remains
from the start of one voyage
to the next
that will never change

Cover Prior Next

The 2River View, 3_2 (Winter 1999)