The Glove

A Poem by Haunzwürthe

For Duncan Lewis Garibaldi - 11/14/2008

The glove lay new in its box
rich and grainy unlike mine
woven webbing taut and clean
rubbed into an oily shine

In this box a birthday gift
this leather sewn surprise
waiting for a little hand
to grasp its fallon hide

One last graze across the grain
to feel the ball tucked in tight
I put the lid back on the box
there will be no catch tonight

© 2011 Haunzwürthe

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Nocturnal Sunrise

I love this poem an excellent piece of work, it flows so easily :-)

Posted 14 Years Ago

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1 Review
Added on August 5, 2011
Last Updated on October 11, 2011

Author

Haunzwürthe

Bland, VA

About

-------------------------------- I am Mark but Haunzwürthe is more fun. -------------------------------- A brand new life sputtering in the wake of a broken family and the dissipating path o.. more..