Warmth

it's cold
my brothers say it's not,
but they always say so.

i take your coat

and i'm warm.

it doesn't smell like you anymore.

i guess five years does that.

do you remember how you always wore that coat?

chopping wood,
    mending the fire,
        fighting back brush,
            drinking tea.

because i do.

i miss you daddy.
i sit by the fire,
i wear your coat.
i fix myself black tea,
that was always your favorite.

but you're not there.

the fire and tea mean nothing.

even this coat has lost your trace.

but i'm cold.
and maybe,
maybe,
when i slip on that coat of yours,
i can pretend you are.

and that makes me warm.