Your Red Coat Poem by jim hogg

I dreamed of you again last night,
back when we both lived where the boats
once ferried restless people's lives,
between the lashed and broken coasts
of countries that were never quite
their own. You wore a summer coat

that covered only perfect skin
and perfect curves on four inch heels,
a little twist of daring thrill,
and just a trace of eager fear.
I always knew that was your thing,
but selfishly would only heed

my own. The sun was down behind
the old town hall, where you and I
were wet, and swept off in the tide
that ferried us beyond the shy
and broken borders of the lives
we'd known, until the cops arrived.

You buttoned up your coat and stood
defiant as they questioned us,
as if we'd trashed some sacred rule,
'til finally they'd seen enough.
We walked back home past your old school,
our tongues too fast, our faces flushed.