January’s First Missing Glove #9

 

January’s First Missing Glove #9

January’s winter is just beginning.

Alas the first glove has already gone missing!

The pair a lover’s gift this Christmas past

Enduring cold abuse their bond could not last.

January’s eternal questions now recur.

How long to keep the sorry survivor?

We hope that the lost one is returning

But January chills this false yearning.

See! Gloves everywhere in demand

No winter wanderer wants a frosty hand.

Nor do we discard the lonely one for fear

That its lost mate may magically reappear.

So we postpone the moment of our grief

Finding a replacement mitten affords some relief.

Poor thing, by our lover’s gift we were so smitten,

We  cannot manage with a mere mitten.

Instead fear and hope are the new pair

We carry with us everywhere.

Ever clinging to the faint hope

That the missing mate did not elope?

Perhaps a happy not a horrible fate

Is  more loving for us to contemplate.

So while January chills us and our heart is frostbitten

We may consider covering our hand with a mere mitten.