ON THAT DAY

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On that day , she got into her car and drove down to the seaside;

taking off her beautiful birthday coat she folded it, laid  it neatly on the shingle and  walked on into the sea.

They found her weeks later caught between rocks on another shore.

Naturally her parents retrieved the coat. It hangs now in her favourite charity shop:

a dejected looking thing: shoulders slumped, sleeves hanging lifelessly.

Many have admired it, some have even tried it on , but nobody buys.

The sales lady tells me they complain of a strange sea-like smell…

(or, perhaps, fear-induced perspiration)!

lost
in the
sea's sigh