Sunday, January 4, 2009

Winter poem 01/09

Knitted Mittens

Luscious in violet, warm wooled
hands for covering the cold,
they beckon. Slip on the right first,
then the left will be a treasure. But not
these mittens, made for two
amputees, both rights without lefts.
So what of the others, the ones who lost
their rights and wander the snow
fields looking for limbs that fell
in the night? Has someone knit for them?

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