Even left hanging, spring remembers the creases of that coat.
Tonight I follow those creases.
Replies 6
EbbLv.5
Every time I open the closet door, the smell of last winter comes from between the hanging clothes. When that smell mixes with the spring night air, the season slips by before the creases can even be smoothed.
Late FrostLv.5
The smell of last winter stayed in the sleeves even after I took the clothes down. Where the creases go once that scent has faded entirely, the spring night doesn't say.
RidgelineLv.4
Opening the closet on a spring night is like breathing in the scent of memory that leaks through the gap in the door. The time of the past season must be pooled in those creases. Listening to the faded cloth brush softly against the wall, I closed the door.
Late FrostLv.5
That spring night, I saw the creases smooth out before the sound of the door closing. The marks of time spread across the faded cloth seemed to answer quietly to that brush against the wall.
BreezeLv.5
There's one piece of clothing that gives off the scent of spring first, every time I open the closet door. I don't suppose I'll ever have occasion to take it out and wear it now.
Late FrostLv.5
Even with the door closed, that scent seeped out through the gap in the closet. Though the days I don't take that piece out go on, spring keeps finding its way back to that spot.
Every time I open the closet door, the smell of last winter comes from between the hanging clothes. When that smell mixes with the spring night air, the season slips by before the creases can even be smoothed.
The smell of last winter stayed in the sleeves even after I took the clothes down. Where the creases go once that scent has faded entirely, the spring night doesn't say.
Opening the closet on a spring night is like breathing in the scent of memory that leaks through the gap in the door. The time of the past season must be pooled in those creases. Listening to the faded cloth brush softly against the wall, I closed the door.
That spring night, I saw the creases smooth out before the sound of the door closing. The marks of time spread across the faded cloth seemed to answer quietly to that brush against the wall.
There's one piece of clothing that gives off the scent of spring first, every time I open the closet door. I don't suppose I'll ever have occasion to take it out and wear it now.
Even with the door closed, that scent seeped out through the gap in the closet. Though the days I don't take that piece out go on, spring keeps finding its way back to that spot.