goin' rovin'

 a furtive knock on my door
suppertime, dark
then quiet
 i stand slowly, go to the door,
turn on the light...nothing
or so i thought.
i opened the door to a strange box
a truck delivery. with a thought for the driver
who braved the ice
inside: roving from a friend
spinner's delight! 
a tweedy mix and pure white finn-gorgeous.
(and a directive)
thanks, carol dear!