Comfort. A poem by Kate Dowling

My husband would like
A less full home.
I surround myself with possessions
From all the many aspects of my life
And take comfort in them,
Like a crocheted blanket on a cold day.

In saying that
When he needed to shave
His long-standing beard for work
So that the surgical masks would fit,
He was glad that I
Could lay my hand on razors
And he could only applaud
The expansive and glorious hoard.


Kate Dowling has written all her life in some way, shape or form. She is creator and editor of The Failure Baler literary zine. Find her on Twitter at @TheFailureBaler and @WaveAtTheTrain.

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