During the class. the following poem was submitted for review in week 1 and revised for the manuscript.

He Wears a Cardigan

Sitting on the couch, still cool from disuse

But warming fast from my body heat,

I glance over at him.

His dirty blonde hair hangs in his face

As he stares at his laptop finishing a day’s work

And I notice…

My love, he wears a cardigan.

Not black leather jackets smelling of sweat,

Or crisply ironed suits stiff with starch.

He rocks faded jeans nearly white

In threadbare spots. Hiding a dream

Behind some dark gray graphic tee.

Topping it all off with a store-bought

Cable knit, brown cardigan from his mother.

Somehow, it’s a combo of soft and scratchy

When I move to stroke his arm as he types.

While earth toned and neutral, it has my attention.