Friday 5 May 2017

Stitches in time

The door yielded gently, catching on the ruffled rug. Memories flew up, dust
dancing in a beam of sun streak.  A patchworked quilt of recollections lay
crumpled on the bed, hues faded. Soft curtains barred the light, muffling thought:
the air, cloaked in kindness, hung soft.

Worn fingers had woven stories in stitches, darns of in and out
throughout the turnaround of time. Creases in her skin spoke of a weft of adventures
athwart the warp of years. Holes in the heft of life, cobbled together by
the innocence of children, made beautiful in gentleness.

Air breathed, dry papery with age. Needles, thread, scissors
Beckoned on the dresser. Neglected rag bag nestled next to embroidery silks
spilling joyously from their box. An invitation: past to present, skill to artist’s
heart.


Silence smiled, remembering.

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