Some wise friends shared a poem with me recently, called “Dangerous Coats,” by Sharon Owens. Owens’ poem got me remembering a magical coat that I lost along the way. So I went out into the woods in search of that coat, and there it was, waiting for me, hanging from a tree. Okay, I know this sounds like fantasy—but let’s just say I put the coat on. I reached down into its pockets. They went deep and forever and connected me to my body, to your hearts, to all the books, to the trees, dirt, air, and water. Power does not reside in denial of access, no matter what small-minded delusion keeps its petty fire going. The dangerous coats have always been and will always be.

Owens’ poem prompted my own painting and poem below.

This dispatch marks a year of ink&pixels. Thank you for your kind attention to my work. Please share with others and encourage them to subscribe.

The Twelfth Ink&Pixel

Access

When I was a kid,

I wanted pockets, always,

deep and everywhere,

places to collect treasure.

But shopping with Mom

in the girls’ department—

I found shallow pockets,

or no pockets at all.

I had a tantrum.

Then Mom took me home,

and offered me a pair

of my brother’s jeans.

Older, I bought a coat

at a second-hand store

a man’s overcoat, and

the pockets were magical:

one inside the breast,

deep ones on the sides,

even secret pocket slits

for access underneath.

Access. That was it.

The child me understood.

The child me knew.

Her tantrum was true.

Listen to audio of “Access” and other Ink&Pixel poems.

See ink-and-pixel artwork here

If anything in this dispatch speaks to you, drop me a line at inkandpixel@jandonley.com.

And please forward to others who might be interested.

And for anyone who hasn’t yet subscribed, you can do so here