Hang Loose
Each sweater
dangles merrily in the closet,
without worries,
brushing sleeves.
Some days,
I become envious.
I separate the plastic hangers
that suspend each carefree sweater
to reveal a place
for myself.
Fluffy sleeves
then brush against me, but
I never feel quite
as content as a sweater.
I try often, because I think,
maybe one day,
I’ll get the hang of it.