In cut-off gloves I can cup
my phone; the oblong light,
and message and swipe
just as I would with only
pale thin gloves of skin.
The poetry anthology,
just arrived from Adelaide,
can be flicked in cut-off gloves.
The flat white slowly sipped,
the necessary bling displayed
on cool growths of fingers.
Those crops of pink asparagus,
embedded in the cut-off gloves
sprout towards the glowing words,
etiolated, and punctuated
by the warming medium
in which I plant them.
This very poem can be written
in what it seeks to praise —
woollen, orange, cut-off gloves.
And stuff these Canberra days.
P.S. Cottier
Wonderful, I LOVE this poem. So tightly woven and thoughtful and funny. I particularly like the 'crops of pink asparagus'
ReplyDeleteingenious (and warm)!
ReplyDeleteThank you both! I should point out that the gloves were bought on-line, which makes the circle more satisfying.
ReplyDeleteSo entertaining. Agree 'crops of pink asparagus' is fabulous!
ReplyDelete