Ode to my Kathmandu Jacket

Today you are treated/subjected to some poetry. I call this piece “Ode to my Kathmandu Jacket”

Oh Kathmandu Jacket,

You are Teal and a colour that is vaguely like Mint

But not.

And also Cream.

(In a small stripe across your front and along your sleeve)

Though you do not particularly go with Work Attire,

You are Warm.

I can wear only one layer beneath you

Rather than my accustomed four,

And I am still toasty.

You are not particularly fashionable in London

These English people cling to their

Stylish Woollen Coats

And I am marked as a foreigner,

A possibly Scandinavian foreigner.

Or maybe German.

But I do not care.

You are also shower-proof

(but not monsoon-proof, as I found

on a Wet Winter’s Day in Wellington),

So I need not worry about

Sozzled electrical devices.

Mostly.

And, your crowning glory:

The hood that crowns my head.

When it is raining.

(It would be nice if you were automatic,

Like those awesome windscreen wipers that turn on when it's raining,

But even so I am content)

I need not carry a

Black Umbrella.

And your pockets are large enough to hold my e-reader!

Most faithful, most useful, most able to be stuffed into my bag on the tube when it's too hot,

You have first place in my heart.