They are the only ones who comfort me. I am the only one who wears them.
Two knitted gloves with colorful yarn and heat like an oven. Two amongst many pair in a pile.
Two gifts knitted by my cousin for Christmas. From the pile, I can see them, sticking out from the whole
pile.
Their yarn is secret. They cover every inch of your hand and emits heat. They’re perfect for any
Condition and grab the wind between the gusts and traps it without letting it hit your hands. This is how
They do their job.
They all stare in disbelief, they all ask “can I wear them” or say “My hands are so cold.”
Warm, warm, warm I say when I’m watching. They want them.
When I am too cold, and too shaky to keep walking, when I am an object against so
Much wind, then it is I look at gloves. When there is nothing left to put on in my house.
Two who were knitted despite looks. Two who help and do not disappoint. Two whose only reason is
To keep me warm.