Give Me A Hand

Many offered

to give me a hand

to paint the man red.

They thought the town 

would be next,

but they were mistaken.

The background was to be in

a different palette,

darker, more sombre.

I asked them to wear gloves.

That way I knew I could 

preserve their memory like

the long dried up palette,

peeling their outer skin

like the gloves.

Like the gloves,

I hung them all

out to dry.

Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality.  Find Lynn at: https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/