There are dull pinking sheers that mash my cotton
Frustrated arthritic fingers pull for tension
Help make the fabric taut
Jagged points along the edge
A rampart that protects me from the fray
Pinning us together temporary
Until the needle brings us tight together
Patched over the patches in our melancholy shirt
But my thread is strong and will hold fast.
WBA April 28, 2009
I wrote this as a tribute to my mother. Over the last few months of her life she taught me to sew. I made it a point to spend as much time with her as I could and always bring my sewing box with me. I cherish the hours we spent together. She was a patient teacher as I was an a enthusiastic student. We drafted a shirt pattern together and I ended up making that shirt. I wear it with so much pride, not that my hands made it, but that my mom taught me how. I long for the day when mom and I will sew together again.
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