My Cardigan Poem by Matt Render
My Cardigan
I'll let her borrow
That blood-stained cardigan
With Splotches of ink
Seeping through the fabric
Warm as the coffee
She Spilled all over it
It breathes marjoram
And stale clove cigarettes
Buried inside
Those tattered pockets
She'll keep my note
And the book of matches
Never mind that it's torn
And completely moth-eaten
Every time she puts it on
She'll feel my heart beating
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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11/4/2025 12:13:32 AM # 1.0.0
Matt this is a very heart-warming, and beautiful poem TFS
Thank you for reading it LeeAnn. Your comments are very much appreciated. I am glad you enjoyed.