Old clothes are an armor of memories
My dad's shirt is strong and stubborn and quiet
These jeans I've had for more than half my life
A reminder
I've come a long way but it's still me
Growing up in the country
Walking in the woods
The red coat I borrowed from my uncle
But never returned
Used to be my grandfather's hunting jacket
Bright red wool
Stained with grease
That time I wore it to work on my car
Those shoes
Bulbous, leather, heavy
Ancient slippers
Worn daily in the workshop
I think my brother has those now
Even socks
The heavy wool ones
borrowed during a visit
when it was colder than I thought it would be
I still have them
I wear these things
When there is work to be done
But I never wear them all together
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