Hello, and welcome to the final 15 Words or Less Poems of the year! This is a low-pressure way to wake up your poetry brain (guidelines here), and I’m very glad you’re here.
Walking to the mailbox with Jack is always an adventure. Trying to corral him while unlocking the mailbox with a tiny key that I have on a lanyard around my neck, and then trying to gather up all the mail, in the dark, while Jack winds himself around and around the pipe that’s the base of the mailbox stand–all while standing in the road–is a little stressful. A couple of weeks ago, I was looking for my gloves because it was frigid out. Couldn’t find them anywhere, and I knew I had them earlier in the night. Remembered I wore them to check the mail and hustled back to the mailboxes a couple blocks away. Sure enough, there were my gloves, sitting in the snow. Whew! (It wouldn’t have been the first pair of nice leather gloves I’ve lost :>/ ) They looked so stark there in the snow.
This image makes me think of several things:
- displaced people trying to escape across water
- Zeus — do you see the lightning bolt on one glove?
- wonder if gods ever get chilly
And here’s my first draft.
It’s your turn! Have fun and stick to 15 WORDS OR LESS! (Title doesn’t count toward word count.)
39 Responses
You take me back to a time I found my gloves in the snow…they were just a pair of cotton gloves that were my grandmother’s. I didn’t inherit anything from her. But, a few of her possessions were offered from the house. Those gloves reminded me of her.…and I lost them in the snow.…but then found them days later. Phew!
Oh, that ominous music! Nice touch.…because we can all hear it. Can’t we? I like that.
My take:
To Catch a Wave
Yield to
the force
freed from hands.
Gloves off–
a god’s salutation
now your
fortune.
Linda, what interesting directions! I’m so glad you found the gloves, Linda. Happy New Year!
LOST BUT FREE
Thunderous sky and angers cry!
Thwarted escape…gloves lost
A part will travel or die.
Oooooh what a choice
Ooh, this is ominous, too! I love thwarted escape, and the larger story it hints at.
Thanks for the inspiration, Laura! It’s always fun to play with words.
LOST
Space is a place
Of frozen, blue depths
Where Hope is w‑a-i-t-i-n‑g
To be held.
Andria, I really like your poem. It is very inviting to me to climb inside this one looking for the size and shape of hope, making it tangible.
Hi, Andria–I love how Hope is concrete here, with feelings, with presence…
Good morning. Thinking of all who are affected by the latest storm raging across the states. And winter, officially, is just beginning. So happy you found your gloves Laura. They look blue and forlorn, waiting to be found!
The Magic in the Season
Hands together
gloved for warmth
reciprocal love
Captain Jack
giving back!
Awww, reciprocal love indeed. That is the true magic.
Uptown Lady
You’ve got to hand it to her,
she hides callouses
with soft leather gloves.
Ha! Love this
Ha! We probably estimate a lot of uptown ladies. Love the wordplay, Joy.
I went with a six word hay(na)ku today as I wrap my fingers around my warm coffee cup.
so cold my
fingers turning
blue
This is, unfortunately, perfect for today. ‑5 is just depressing!
The spareness and sounds of this have me feeling the chill.
Gloves in the snow always look so lost and lonely. Usually there’s only one though…I love your ominous music and the movement in the photo prompt. Here’s my first draft:
Surrender
Two limp gloves
in a torrent
of snow
electric-blue artifacts
of a battle lost
Love “electric blue artifacts.” Then on to the lost battle leaves me forlorn.
My children usually lose their gloves in battle with the dog. Loved your poem!
Oooh. Boy, does this hint at a larger story! The strong/weak juxtapositions are terrific. Great point about how it’s usually only one. I have the terrible habit of putting my gloves on my lap when I need to dig out something from my purse or whatever. Then we arrive somewhere and I get up and out of the car, forgetting my gloves were on my lap. I’ve lost at least one other pair that way…maybe two :>(
A goddess’s gloves
dropped from above
A young girl delights
in her newfound treasure
Love this positive spin with a bit of fantasy thrown in.
Love the journey you take us with your words!
Ooh, this makes me think of every winter fairy tale I know. OK, there are not many of them, but I love the mood.
In an ocean
of snow-capped waves,
Poseidon plays hide-n-seek,
lost-n-found.
Great imagery and love the rhythm of hide-n-seek and lost-n-found!
Lovely rhythm, and I love line 2 especially…
I lost my favorite warm head band this morning. So I can relate.
LOST!
An empty feeling.
My brain is reeling.
But maybe- found
by someone
who needs them.
This poem makes me feel all warm, even without my gloves. Love.
Don’t drop your gloves today! Last night when we bundled up for our after-dinner dog walk, the temperature had already plunged to minus four.… without the dog, I would be hibernating!
blue dusk spills on fields
dried stalks wave fluffy snow gloves
at the rising moon
Fantastic imagery here, Buffy. Those fluffy snow gloves and rising moon…so evocative and lush.
I love you pic today full of mystery
poem By Jessica Bigi
Winter Memories
sugar frosted fields
snowy fellows
black rimed hats
standing invisible
all to remember
bright red gloves
puddles of green-scarf
I love “puddles of green-scarf,” Jessica!
Oh, those scarf puddles–lovely!
For me it’s been my warm plaid scarf, which I hadn’t lost once in 3 years and then lost twice in 3 days. I called one restaurant and the girl went and looked under the table where I sat—there was my scarf! I was surprisingly touched and happy to get it back. Also, –4 degrees? What?!? It’s about 30 here in Utah. Happy New Year, all, and stay warm!
Hands
There’s something magical
about hands,
the way they twirl, dip,
grasp, tremble, clasp.
—Kate Coombs
Glad you got your scarf back! Losing one always makes you appreciate it doubly, doesn’t it? The silver lining to loss, I guess. Love your verbs for hands, Kate, especially that you end with “clasp,” with holding on… Oh my gosh, reading this just made me say, “Wait a minute! Where’s Breathe and Be on my Poetry Friday post? Discovered I never rated it in Goodreads. So took care of that and added to my roundup. Whew.
Oh, you’re so nice! I thought it was a great list already. 🙂
My immediate reaction to this photo was of a Salvador Dali painting, so surrealistic. I’m always amazed at what filtering does to photographs. Ominous music, and hungering for connection…just fabulous.
Lost At Sea
Silky, blue gloves
Abandoned,
Floated on frosted waves.
The epitaph of a lady.
That last line is amazing. Ties it all together beautifully and sadly.