New Word: Two Is Tow, As In Now Poem by Douglas Scotney

Just when I thought a miracle had occurred
and another would have the matriarch up for a sainthood,
her little sister said that the first sensible present
she'd ever got from her
came from a recent visit
in which she must have noticed the empty hand-bag hanger,
that little sister had no handbags,
and that she would use gardening gloves.

It all comes back to me now:
those tow left-hand oven mits
she sent me when I was fifty tow.