Poetry corner

Somebody threw away a left-handed glove

Somebody threw away a workman's left-handed glove.

Perhaps it fell from  a  lorry, or was it just thrown away

On a Friday?

Anyway, I picked it up and kept it

With the rest of the stuff : bits of wood, odd screws and nails

Occasional  bits of string or binder-twine ,  plugs, tin-openers,

And such-like, DEFINITELY NOT CLUTTER,

Which older men (no monopoly intended)  sometimes  feel

“Could be useful” one day,  heedless of funeral or house-clearance.

(They do not  mean themselves).

Pallet-wood is fine for evening comfort fires.

A while later, I found a right-handed glove,

Which someone else had thrown away.

It  came in useful, with the earlier one,

When I was  clearing  another somebody's  neglected garden.

A bee wandered  around where I had just cut down some “weeds”,

Wondering where the nectar had gone.

Bees turn weeds into honey:

I stopped cutting.

We  know  only what we  have learned.

  Ken McDonald