"The Glove"

By Kyle Easton

The glove slipped from my hand
Falling to the pavement
Where it lay
Transformed
From a thing warm and loved
My friend
To a thing cold and dirty and forlorn
Evoking an involuntary feeling of disgust
First at it
And then at myself
How quick we are
To turn upon the things we love
When they fall and are made ugly by the world
Disgust turns to sadness
As my thoughts turn from the glove
To the nature of life
And what a disappointing thing it can be
I heave a sigh, pick it up, and put it on
For a moment it feels cold and foreign
But soon it is warm again
It remembers the shape of my hand

Writer Kyle Easton was born and raised in upstate New York, where he still lives. He attended Bates College.