Today I wear
my coat of many colours.
I need a mother's love
to enfold me, to keep me warm
through the bad news
I know will come.
I was not there
when she bought it,
my coat of many colours,
in an Arizona desert.
She is not there,
when I wear it,
my coat of many colours,
in a London hospital.
But as I was with her in the desert,
so she is with me now,
as much as she can be,
my good-enough mother,
who gave me
my coat of many colours.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem