Brown Leather Belt

i can't recall

when i bought you

or from which store

hide of an animal

i never knew

brown belt i've worn

off and on through five decades

destined only

for my trouser loops

simple elegance

good width and depth

a buckle of solid dull brass

a straight line of strap

interrupted only with

the most essential stitches

shaped after the tedium

of trains sidewalks and stairs

after our adventures together

on four continents

to the curve of my waist

bones of my hips

three buckle holes

stretched into ovals

from the weight

of all the years

the other two left

as unused circles

as the tanner made them

purchased way back when

for a fair price

given a lifetime of use

better than

any of today's

narrow imitations

you are part now

of my morning comfort

as i reach up

take you off the hook

thread you round my day

your primary task

which you so ably

and joyfully embrace

is keeping my pants

from falling

down

about my knees

as i navigate

these final years

these repetitive chores

who will wear you

when i'm gone

no one not even kin

dons the most personal items

of clothing of the deceased

wants in a manner of speaking

to walk in another's skin

cherish something that trimmed

the dearly departed’s middle

perhaps you end up

in the garbage bin

or the goodwill bag

or if i utter

precatory words

join me in

a crematory incineration

only a bit of metal

left after the fire's over

to toss with the ashes

into a mighty ocean

something lasting

to get finally

to the bottom

of all this water

i rather fancy that

after all these years

we'd be gone together

a fitting

tailored ending

my never complaining friend

to a story with no

discernible beginning