About the Poem

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

Carol: Christmas, 1999

by Ted Reynolds

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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6 Visitor Comments

Gwen

I sometimes wish I could wear 'gloves on my heart'. Thank-you for sharing this.

Masterfully Done! Unique, Outstanding! Intriguing! Wonderful, Simplisticly done, Beautiful.

Petr

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.

Ashley

It really made me think!

Christy

Excellent imagery and a great use of metaphor

Teresa

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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