#Poem – A Stitch

So we mended the darn thing.
We had unravelled into a pile
Almost unteaseable
For pulling too tight.
Pinning my memory at the moment
I met you,
I could tell by the hang of your weft
That you weren’t warped.
With our evenings tatters gathered
And the patches of love.
Where do we find them?
Each word, invisible mending
Each kiss shuttling love between
The threadbare and the rich.
And patient fingers
Unpicking the Gordions
And hooking through older times –
Golden moments in this broken tapestry
Now mended

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 )

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