The Raincoat

I know not from where the raincoat came,
Only that it hung in the corner of the hall
By the old stuffed chair near the game room,
Where old family pictures lined the wall.
As a child, I used to marvel at the fabric,
Worn and tattered, yet golden in its hues;
And I would think how one day, if I were sick,
I could put it on along with Daddy's shoes.
It seemed like a comfortable way
To hold my hurt inside--just wrap it tight,
Close my eyes, and ask my Mom to pray
With me to ward off evils of the night.
I knew that it was safe and strong, for Daddy
Wore it on those days of rage and pain
When things weren't all so happy,
With crops near death from too much rain.
Today at Mom's I finally put it on.
It was rather small and did not fit at all--
Quite strange, for in that house as Daddy's son,
It always seemed alone and very tall.