#114

Another left handed glove has gotten off of the Marky train.

This is the problem with gloves:

I have a pile of righties on my workbench;

for it is ever the lefties who go rogue.

But perhaps it is the hand who doesn’t wish to be clothed…

Preferring instead to run about naked and exposed?

Mayhaps I am being errant with my blame though-

She might have been glovenapped by a klepto car, No?

A known stealer of hats and a felon of fashion!

But it might just be because of the coldest day of the year so far, that

makes me to utter libelous false statements and ruin it’s reputation, yet

I suspect that car was on a mission, and it was in fact a crime of passion!

Oh glove, you were ever a selfless and devoted companion… 

Why didst thou wantonly elope and leave my digits a-freezin’???

Mark W. Ó Brien

December2025

#113

 Outside a star

the one that reminds me of you

on cold winter nights like this.

The one that guided you

 

through years of wandering

until you came back home to us to die.

You went to ground, you did…

When you found out, you hunkered down…

…Now you have become one with 

the earth you had restlessly paced 

all of your unsettled days…

I missed you during those long years of parting

you wandering, me rooted and lonely…

Now you’re here, and I miss you still.

Mark W. Ó Brien

30December2025