One Woolen Mitten

​One woolen mitten
It lost its mate
It lost the hand that it kept warm
 
Warm
But not dry
Wool doesn’t keep hands dry
 
The small fingers on one hand
Are pink and cold now
Wet from snow
 
The small boy doesn’t know
Where he lost his mitten
He was too busy forming balls of snow
And throwing them at his brother
 
Then they had a tussle
And rolled around in snow
The cold wet seeping into collars, soaking shoes and pant legs
Turning noses pink, ears, too
 
Somewhere in the wrestling match
A mitten went missing.
Now it is gone until spring.
 
Hot chocolate fixes cold hands
And lost mittens
And fights with brothers.
 
Thanks Mom
Don’t be mad
Because I lost my mitten.