Notes About The Poem

heirloom cedar chest containing Mother's quilts

one of the many quilts Mother made; this is her Christmas poinsettia quilt

RESURRECTED GEOMETRY

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
midnight blues bled into dawn pinks  
beneath her needle's patient rhythm.  
scraps of my outgrown dresses,  
Grandad's flannel shirt, threadbare at the elbows –  
resurrected geometry.  

her hands traced constellations  
of mismatched calico and gingham.  
thimble’s silver moon rose and fell
binding frayed edges  
into something whole,  
something warm against the dark.

Now, her hands rest
but what remains is a 
cedar chest in which
her life’s work
is contained.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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Gauthier Avatar
October 12, 2025 at 8:12 PM
Loving tribute ~ my own grandmother was a quilter and I just love her quilts. I love thinking about all the love and time she put into them ~
Etgen-Baker Avatar
October 14, 2025 at 9:02 AM
I know what you mean--I look at my mom's quilts, running my fingers over the squares and patterns imaging her patience and artisty.
Wolf Avatar
October 12, 2025 at 7:15 PM
I love reading your description of your grandma's (and grandpa's) vocations and avocations, Sara. The love yo had/have for them is felt in every line. :) Gershon
Etgen-Baker Avatar
October 14, 2025 at 9:01 AM
awww, thank you, Gershon! What kindness in your comments. I miss them terribly sometimes. :-)
Hind Avatar
October 12, 2025 at 11:53 AM
Truly lovely, Sara - I always enjoy your thoughts
Etgen-Baker Avatar
October 14, 2025 at 9:00 AM
thank you, Paige. You are most kind.
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