The Blue Balaclava

I don’t need a mask.

My all wool

bright blue


serves me well

and hopefully

my colour choice

will distinguish me

from the local would be bank robbers,

if there are any about on this cold morning

when frost crystals congeal in the wool

covering my head

and icicles hang 

in the space left

for eyes and mouth.

I feel invisible.

Even those who know me best

would fail to recognise me.

If everyone in town

wore a blue balaclava.


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