MITTENS AND KINDNESS
It catches my eye, a miniature hand of wool ,on the wall so carefully placed,
against the stone a brilliant white, soft and pure as the infant skin it graced.
It draws few casual glances and I know it was by a simple kindness found,
sad thoughts of tiny blue fingers prompted it’s rescue from frozen ground.
They’ll not notice it’s loss,it’s doubtful for a mitten they would pass again.
No it will soon be in the dirt once more, but a simple kindness will remain.