A Shawl, Mine Worn
S
Susan Lacovara
0
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A shawl, mine worn,
against the riddle of time
spent in this frozen perilous winter
lending security to what wicked a spell
has been cast, to keep me underground,
unaware if sunlight returns
(so long, her escape)
A shawl, mine worn,
fashionably frozen to the daily doldrums
of creating a crafted contingency plan
how I will weather the wasteful cold
And leap again, with leprechaun giddy
into the dance partner's open arms
of Spring, come soon...
A shawl, mine worn,
armoured in the caressing cotton
soothing and smoothing what cares
none see, as they are mine
sent to this address...
draped round my sometimes rounded shoulders
that I will stand taller in April
To greet the forsythia's flourishing flash
of yellow...and hello....
shedding the shawl, mine worn,
and worn out, by winter's hardened hand
and the hand-me-down dismal gray
that stains a shawl, mine worn.
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