The Duffel Coat Emporium Poem by C Richard Miles

Down in the cupboard, I scrabbled for my coat.
Down went my spirits when the zip-fastener broke.
Down to the town I forged my way in search of new.
Down, screamed the poster, are the prices, that I viewed.

Round Jackson’s Corner of the street in Reading town.
Round doors revolving spun to call me in to browse.
Round all the store, dusty shelves held ancient goods.
Round was the carousel from which hung coats with hoods.

Brown was the shade of wooden panels of aged walls.
Brown were the shop assistant’s nicotine-stained nails.
Brown feelings disappeared, a lump came to my throat:
Brown was the colour of my new-found duffel coat.

Found, was the answer to the question that I asked.
Found in the dingy, musty throwback to the past.
Found, the replacement for the damaged mac I’d lost
Found in my wallet was the cash to pay the cost.

Bound in a moment was the deal that bought the coat.
Bound in a metal ball, the tendered five-pound notes
Bound to the crabbed cashier, ran on the metal rail.
Bound up in paper brown, my coat was tied with skill.

Proud was the salesman, yet with aged fingers trembling,
Proud in the art of tying up the parcel with the string.
Proud pillar of the past, unbowed stood the Emporium.
Proud possessor of new coat strode down the street back home.