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
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