PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

i am weaving threads of memory
spun on the edge of Tennessee.
embedded in these tiles of history,
are the hearts of those I knew.

thread the eye and weave the fabric.
every day a row begins.
the shuttle thrown may sound like static,
but binds the days from end on end.

i am weaving colors faded
redying shades in brighter hue
rethinking times with eyes more jaded
and seeing patterns hands cling to.

map the lands that tinge my textile
virginia, georgia, tennessee.
the carolina waters fill me
rivers, lakes ‘n ocean flowin through.

cloth of time i touch to my lips
tasting, smelling days recalled.
home and hearth and loves in deep sips
to know the woman I’ve come into.

i am weaving threads of memory
cloth spun in this southern home.
touching fine and coarser fabric
here, i know and I am known.