The Jacket Poem by Randy McClave

I made my son a jacket
From the old clothes that I once wore
Some pieces used were from my youth
And some pieces were what I wore in war
Tattered pieces of cloth of my youth
My son now wears when he goes out to play
He lives the youth that I once had lived
As he wears the jacket nearly every day,
Kicking a ball and running about the yard
Doing and playing the games I did when I was his age
Climbing trees and jumping into the leaves
I hear and see joy and happiness and no rage
Now I see him playing soldiers in this jacket
My heart beats fast and it's hard for me to breathe
So I took his jacket and I destroyed it in a fire
Now for the jacket, and not my son I do grieve.

Randy L. McClave