Grain

I brushed the sleeve the wrong way

and left a dark trail behind,

like a shadow that won't lift.

I tried to wear it to the church today,

but the salt from the winter air

has eaten the softest parts.

There’s a bald spot on the elbow

where I leaned against the brick.

It looks like a scar now,

shiny and tired,

no matter how much I try

to comb the grain back to life.