1.09.2017

Uggle by Mary O'Neill

Uggle is a blanket
Worn to shreds
It's been on every
One of my beds.
Once it went off
In a Good Will pack
And I had an awful time
Getting it back.
Once it was tossed
In an old trash bin
But I saw its fringe
And climbed right in.
Once it was bitten
By a moth
And once it was used
As a dusting cloth!
Why did I love it
More than my cat,
My dog, my doll and my
Sunday hat?
Because when dark
Night shadows flung
Monsters on walls
When I was young
It was to Uggle
That I clung...
Later when I
Was four or five
And knew that
Shadows weren't alive
Uggle was part
Of every night
Like the stars and
The bedside light,
Like loving eyes and
A hand held tight..
Like somebody, almost,
But not quite...