Old Yarns - New Quilts

The quality of the yarns has faded Colors clash, knotted memories Woven together, re-stitched, Worn fibers straining for recognition Seek the truth of each knot The wisdom of each choice The tint and taint of time. Has it always been “My” quilt? Was it “gifted to me” Already bearing pieces Of other’s stories? Has memory fused feelings Tempered the truth Of the weavers Allowed us all to claim So many “oh so similar” stitches. I doubt it covers “everything” Some squares must have been left out Some trimmed away, chewed by the dog Lost in a sibling tug-o-war. Don’t get me wrong I still cherish “my” quilt I just have trouble believing That it is “all” mine. John G. Lawless 7/10/2023