my mother’s needles
hold memories
her
now two years passed on
i learn to purl
under over
knit purl
i move these knots
casting on and off in patterns newly understood
imagined
staying up late
stitching
fabricating
inheriting yarns
March 5, 2011 by elisabethbee
my mother’s needles
hold memories
her
now two years passed on
i learn to purl
under over
knit purl
i move these knots
casting on and off in patterns newly understood
imagined
staying up late
stitching
fabricating
inheriting yarns
Posted in discovery, feelings, joy, love, metaphor, mindful, mindfulness, poems, poetry, realization, stories, time, writing | Tagged aviation stories, compassion, experience, felt-states, learning, lessons, life, love, memories, mindfulness, musings, observations, poems, poetry, recollections, relationship, remembering, self, short poems, thoughts, time, writing | 2 Comments
Playful … tender … lovely.
And I get to twist yarn with a pair of her needles and think of my mom and me. Thanks for reading.
EB