THE BALACLAVA
The woollen balaclava surrounded the head of a young boy
like a facsmile of the Norman chain mail helmet
on my mother's knitting pattern together with fingerless mitts,
in today's world of sports gear an anachronism.
Bestway Knitwear no. A 2624 4d. guided her as the fifties demanded;
said balaclava was as hot as molten lava,
as itchy as a false beard in a Shakespeare play
the precursor to sundry rashes.
A kind of skirt recessed over the collar
preventing the egress of any invading wind,
the full monty so to speak, the wearing of which
made me a target for merciless teasing at the time
by schoolmates whose own mothers spurned the needles.
<Deleted User> (34003)
Sat 8th Oct 2022 09:54
Yes Ray,
With regard to law enforcement collectively concealing individual identity...acting as a force for the remote instruments of power. It is exactly that which is sinister and regressive. Of course their masters will make mention of collar numbers etc...those people have probably never been exposed to officers in that scenario or know all to well the alternative practices of concealment individual officers can utilise.
Forgive me this comment does not really relate to your poem. I'll stop now.