X it for Xtreme Measures

X has been found, really found!  It's the A to Z Challenge, and letter X is for today.  I have been searching for a lobster boat that begins with the letter X for quite some time.  and I found it a couple of days ago.
I have not yet met Xtreme Measures in person, but found its news article online.  It is a lobster boat that was lost off Spruce Head in a blizzard.  It had been lost for 10 days in February, but was located adrift about 150 miles away.
Story here: Bangor Daily News.

"Xtreme Measures"

The night was dark
And fearsome;
No stars to
Guide the way.
The sky was thick
With snowflakes;
No twinkle
Nor moon ray.
The waves were cold
And mighty;
No rest for
Boats this day.
With blust'ry winds
For weather,
The snow could
Hide a stray.

The boat was tossed
And tugging;
No hope to
Hold her tight.
The ropes were frayed
And loosened;
No crew to
Head her right.
The craft was sure
And worthy
As winds would
Give her flight.
The boat would go
Unnoticed
Until the
Next daylight.

For days no one
Could find her,
But still she
Tried to cope.
She wandered far
And yonder,
Until she
Felt taught rope;
A bit relieved
And tired
About to
Give up hope.
She gave in to
The guidance
No more to
Blindly grope.

At last this boat
Was rescued
From out the
White-cap foam.
The captain was
Excited,
His boat was
Guided home,
The miles of isles
and shoreland
He no more
Had to comb.
Still even keeled
And steady
She never
More would roam.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First Glove of the Season

I looked down.  And there it was.  Sad, lonely, waiting.
The first lost glove of the season.

It had followed its owner to Starbucks, riding quietly along in the car in the front seat.  Gloves had been very helpful in the chilly air as Mr. started up the car.  But it got warm in the car, so Mr. took off his gloves and laid them on his lap for the drive to Starbucks before doing a bit of Christmas shopping with Mrs..

Mr. and Mrs. had talked about what to get the kids.  New mittens, of course, would be on the list.  Having a basketful of mismatched mittens at home from prior seasons of cold, meant it was time to adopt a couple more pairs from LL Bean or Reny’s.

When they reached Starbucks they pondered whether they should go in or just get a drive-thru coffee vente.  Mr. thought they had plenty of time, so they decided to go in and enjoy a few minutes of Starbucks magic.

As Mr. got out of the car, the inevitable happened.  One glove fell to the floor of the car, while the other fell out on the cold, wet ground in the dark. 

Free at last! The glove was ecstatic!  The only thing better would have been if his partner had made it out too.  

The car door closed, Mr.’s feet just missed stepping on Glove’s thumb as he turned to go into the coffee shop.

It seemed hours in the darkness before they returned to the car.  Perhaps they will see me here, Glove thought.  But it was too dark.  The shadow from the car beside them, hid Glove from the light of the lamp post.  

Mr. opened the car door for Mrs. and then stepped over Glove as he got in himself.  They drove away without seeing, remembering or wondering.

They bought new mittens for their kids and even a couple more pairs to donate to the school for children who might forget their mittens on a cold day.  And then they drove home.

It wasn’t until the next morning, heading for work, that Mr. couldn’t find his gloves.  He searched the closet and his coat pockets thoroughly before remembering having them the night before in the car.  He raced to the car, fearful of what he might find...or NOT find.  

There on the floor was ONE glove.  Not two.  Not zero.  Just one.  

A quick search of the car confirmed it.  One of the gloves had escaped.  

Having one glove was senseless.  If they had just gone together, there was a chance they’d have found a good home...some cold hands that would welcome a nice warm pair of gloves.  But this, sadly, was not the case.

Remaining Glove was sentenced to the mitten basket with the other mismatched hand coverings.  Who knows, maybe those wanderers will return someday and again will be paired, left with right.

But I’ve seen Glove out on the street.  It isn’t coming home.