Fabric spun from memories –
pull it tight on the frame,
tack it all where needed
to keep it from slipping away.

Thread the needle, take on the task
of stitching an intricate design.
Ignore the pain in fingers and back
until it’s done – my blanket of time.

Stand back to look at my handiwork –
something useful made of it all.
I lay the blanket across my shoulders,
wrap it around me, understand my fall.

Years of lessons permeate
yet do nothing for the chill,
I wash the fabric with my tears
then dry it with goodwill.

I place the blanket in my room
despite the emotional cascade.
I rest beneath my handmade quilt,
I lay in the bed I’ve made.


~Nikki Anne Schmutz


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s