'I was beautiful once,'
she said,
her weathered hands mending another torn patch on an old travelling cloak;
"It was good in its own way, I suppose,
But it no longer had use for me.
...
I wore the beauty over my shoulders like
A second skin,
like a gifted jacket
which I one day outgrew.
...
My interests turned to other purposes,
And she was tucked away alongside the other tokens of my youth"
She stood, shaking out the quilt on her lap
which flared in kaleidoscopic colour -
an intricate map
of tiny knots and stitches which had layered over years of constant mending,
"I make my own clothes now"
.
Sep 20, 2023
Sep 20, 2023 at 12:48 AM UTC
'I was beautiful once,'
she said,
her weathered hands mending another torn patch on an old travelling cloak;
"It was good in its own way, I suppose,
But it no longer had use for me.
...
I wore the beauty over my shoulders like
A second skin,
like a gifted jacket
which I one day outgrew.
...
My interests turned to other purposes,
And she was tucked away alongside the other tokens of my youth"
She stood, shaking out the quilt on her lap
which flared in kaleidoscopic colour -
an intricate map
of tiny knots and stitches which had layered over years of constant mending,
"I make my own clothes now"
.
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