Sunday, 12 October 2014

New Poem: Gloves

My aunt didn’t have pets but she looked

after two gloves. Indoors, it was no big

deal, we hardly noticed that she sat with

the gloves beside her on the sofa. You’d

sometimes see her patting them or

stroking them. They had their own chair

at the table. When she came to the door

to say goodbye she nearly always had

them sitting folded over her arm. It really

was no big deal. The only time it was

more of a thing was when she came over

to our place. She brought the gloves with

her in a cat basket. When she arrived, she

put the basket down on the floor and slid

the gloves out of the cat basket. They were

with her all the time she was at our house,

then when she went home she eased the

gloves back into the cat basket. The basket

was always on the seat beside her in the

car. As she drove off, we waved to her. I

think there was once or twice I waved to

the gloves.