Coatman

His man arms, soft, and strong,

Curled like a lock around my neck.

His breath,

Struggling upon a hook

Felt icy and intermittent

My hair, disheveled

And uncombed

Fell on his face

And he lowered his head

To whisper my ears:

“Madam,

May I take your coat?”

Saying this,

He hurried outside

Holding my heart

My coat,

And my five buck change

In his fingers.