Measure twice, cut once

She was my biggest fan
when I was not even sure
of my words, always failing me
to get what was inside
on the outside

I was her biggest critic
(there was a time)
when I saw only anger
my way of grieving over a life
that could not be reversed

Here I am
twenty years past
thumbing through volumes
rifling over fabric scraps
to find a pattern
to answer questions

and all I see is love
through the eyes
of the mercy of time past
how she took reams of my words
sharing them
sowing them like seeds

then dead at 56
we were out of time
and any chance to bridge gulfs
and sew seams, but I remember
how we had pie and coffee
and laughed

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Blocks

quilting pillow 1.jpg

She sews the pieces together
distracted
with every corner that is not square.

Wanting to please her grandmother
she hopes
that Heaven’s floor
is not transparent.

Monday random: silence

  • I am going to say this right out, right now: I am uncomfortable with complete silence
  • The reasons for this are varied, but most come from childhood and are fairly evident by poetry regarding the same. Rephrased: enough said about that.
  • This week I was under the weather, mostly I think from allowing myself to become rundown
  • Plus after a particularly rough patch, I followed it with a great deal of sugary snacks, which we all have come to know are poison.
  • I did not go to the doctor, but I did doctor myself with water, vegetables, fruit, vitamins, sunshine, and colloidal silver
  • and sleep, which I am still working on.
  • I just can’t get enough, but I am trying

Continue reading “Monday random: silence”