Memories Worn Thin

I slip on your coat, the fabric feels worn,

a relic of laughter, in autumn, we’d sworn.

The scent carries whispers of moments once shared,

a time woven in stories, tender and bare.

Threadbare yet heavy, memories cling,

remnants of comfort in the chill that they bring.

I walk through the streets, and they echo your name,

that coat, just a shell, still carries the same.