A year ago, I bought a linen jacket.
Dark blue, but not quite navy. Nice.
I didn’t buy the trousers. I almost did,
but then I hesitated: another sixty quid.
I’ve worn the jacket loads since then,
but every time I’ve put it on I’ve felt regret;
a sense of something incomplete; and worse than that:
a few pounds saved, you penny-pinching twat.
I went back to the shop the other day.
A sale: a rack of linen trousers down
from sixty quid to thirty five; a chance to save a packet.
I hesitated: would they match the jacket?
They did. I’m wearing them together now,
trousers and jacket, exact same shade of blue.
They’re creasing up a bit, it’s true,
but hey, that’s linen.