My Mothers Coat : Poem Remade

As a infant

I remember feeling warm

covered

in my Mum’s coat

I think I looked

absurd,

big buttons

emerging from the folds

that was the only thing

there for me   

I’d always commemorate

Its uncommon threads

Amazing and boorish

its Tenderness

negate their clout

its tivaevae-like board

of light thin fibre

An active amour

across harsh winters

The colours loud

Screaming for consideration

and capacity

My mum constantly wore

the coat with Delight

undaunted

by its climax aftermath

outlining her out

in a Papaa circle

But combined appealing

at each puputuanga

I do commemorate

with adolescent antipathy

abandon my mum’s coat

“not for me”

the abhorrent design

bizarre colours

and a stiff fit

I didn’t want

to be striking

If only I knew then

What I know right

now

She wears it always

Her jewelry of ego

dazzling and blazing

and not long ago

I tested it

after abounding years

admitting it’s not “really me”

It’s because of mum

I can definitely

sew my own

Hope you enjoy/ understand my poem!