Black Holds Her Essence Back
Twirling in cottons of pinks yellows and blue
Prom red satin slides in, so shiny and new
Followed by linen, stark, stiff and tannish white
Black holds her essence back, saving herself for the night
Whirling in wonder the materials swirl
Laughing at the closets of frayed fabrics that curl
Yellows in a stack down the hall ready to be quilted
Some of the shabbier cottons are practically wilted
The fabrics are laughing at each other’s flaws
Bullies on fire, so glad none have jaws
Instead of supporting, they tear polyester apart.
Not realizing even she is a lost pantsuit art.
I dare not peek in the sewing room,
For they are nasty and mean.
They make fun of each other.
Each one thinks she is queen.
The fabrics are nasty, back-biting and bad.
Maybe the worst textures I have ever had.
I enter cautiously, hoping to fix them, to make them play right.
Black holds her essence back, saving herself for the night
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2020
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