Grey Hoodie


Turns out, security blankets
come in all shapes and
sizes. When I was 14
and newly thin,
mine was my Daddy’s
old grey hoodie, zipped
up to the neck and worn
rain, shine or one
-hundred degree sun.

Old Gray covered
a multitude of sins –
old fears,
new (slight) curves
and a bundle of nerves
tethering together who
I was and who
I might be

Sophomore year, I simply
unzipped it like an old skin,
and wandered in.



Prompted by Margo Roby’s Tryouts.



This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Grey Hoodie

  1. Shawna says:

    Ooh. I hope there’s a whole series of poems on this topic!

  2. What hard, unsure years. It is a wonder we turned out at all what passes for normal.

  3. 🙂 I think I’ve put mine back on 🙂 I love the ending “wandered in.”

  4. margo roby says:

    Maybe not a hoodie, per se, but I’m back to loose. Yes, sigh. The last stanza is a terrific turn from the beginning. The whole voice changes.

  5. The uncertainties and embarrassment of being young pervade your poem,

Use your words.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.