Selvedge Edges
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Blue-checkered curtains are faded, and drawn,..
after years since she made them, from gunny-sack cloth
The Singer, long idle, now gathers more dust,
with its needle still threaded, and the treadle at rest
As I clear out the room, I think of long hours
of foot-peddled power, and strength in her soul.
She would unroll the fabric of roses and flowers,
with determined resilience in her dark circled eyes.
But prudence, endurance, would salvage a way
Abandoned and left in a sea of lost dreams
She picked up the pieces, of patterns and hems
Making a living, and raising her kin,
didn't come easy, but she had to win
A life left unraveled, she must sew up again.
Working past midnight. Spindles would spin. Somehow rekindled
to live once again.
Making ends meet. Selvedge edges and hems
Sowing her heart, sowing her skill, and sowing her soul
Sewn together again
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4/20/18
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2018
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