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About the Poem

Sometimes you lose friends before you really have a chance to have them. Only the ache remains.

Carol: Christmas, 1999

Her hands move through the thicket with care
Weeding and pruning the prickly hedges,
Restoring, against entropy, some semblance of order.
She offers me a running commentary.

One blossom is snipped because it doesn't measure up:
One to be displayed where its perfection can show;
One is taken that its neighbor may better bloom.

She warns me to use gloves when sorting out this tangle.
Not relishing the carving of thorns, I do protect my hands.

Before the year ends, she too is snipped.

I never learned to wear gloves on my heart.
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© 1999 Ted Reynolds Please respect the rights of the author and Passions in Poetry. If you would like to use this poem on your own web page, please contact the Author. Thank you.

6 Visitor Comments

I sometimes wish I could wear 'gloves on my heart'. Thank-you for sharing this.
Masterfully Done! Unique, Outstanding! Intriguing! Wonderful, Simplisticly done, Beautiful.
This is what I imagine a poem to be. A few words that just make you imagine a scene, and then a touch that goes straight to your soul.
It really made me think!
Excellent imagery and a great use of metaphor
Not many words,but more meaning and feeling in those words than I have hear in a long time.I loved it.

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