Friday, April 8, 2016

The old shirts

 I put one on, the
 other day, a pin-
 point cotton wov-
 en in Glasgow and
 fashioned by tail-
 ors in New Jersey,
 about this long a-
 go. Of warm-weath-
 er weight, it im-
 parted a sense of
 luxury to the arm
 from decades admir-
 ably withstood, of
 laundries and more
 genial wearing in.

 It's what I'd been
 rusticated to the
 same place for. I
 did not pursue the

 This is for myself.

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