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Motherly Love


You feel
Stupid yet
Sad and at the same time
Lost and found
Like the glove
That your mother
Knitted for you with love
That you left behind
At an event you went to blind
Meaning that
You didn’t
intend to attend
And now
So that your left hand doesn’t freeze
You’re standing
Asking some vacant faced
Door attendant
Where you might find
The place where they keep
The things
They didn’t mean to reap
The handbags
Right gloves and
Left shoes
Left behind partners
Dressed in blue
The jackets
Guns and Bullets
The weirdo men
Disturbing mullets
The candy
Pennies and dollars
Found in the crevices
Of sofas
And moved to the bottom
Of pockets

The attendant
Has a singular vacant stare
And says
I don’t know where
Your lost property
Could possibly be
And so, frustrated you leave
Via the stair that takes you out up above this sad lair
You leave behind
Your long lost glove
And with it
You leave behind
Almost all
Of the weird shit
That people tell you to do
The one thing that kept you true
Was that glove
Made with love
But the sacrifice
To retrieve that object
From an earlier life
Would be too complex
Almost insane
It would most
Certainly be inane
Memory is better
Than the sucky crap
You’ve lived with
For almost forever
And so to survive
You leave it behind
With tears in your eyes
But also with a hardened heart
It’s not with ease
That you cease to search
For that object of beauty, skill and love.
But you know
That wherever it is
It exists and rises
Far above the cultural rubbish
And tethering baggage
And so
Even as you lose
That beautiful warm glove
Made with everlasting
Motherly love
You walk away
Knowing that you
Are somehow saving yourself
For another, better day.

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