Sometimes you have to catch
the light, just where it falls
beyond the line of blue iris and purple clematis
to where the oak tree stands boundary.
Shade comes too soon, and the blanket
wrapped around your knees reminds you
of the ages yet to come.
An old knit, still holding true
everywhere, except for two
black squares eaten away,
which remind you
the knitter is gone too.
@Shaista Tayabali, 2014
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| My Maya Angelou collection on the blanket my grandmother knitted. |
2 comments:
Such a beautiful poem, Shaista, so poignant, with the two black squares eaten away, the knitter who is gone, too. I especially love catching the light just where it falls. You have a marvelous Maya collection, and I love your grandma's knitted blanket. My sister has one of my grandma's, all oranges, reds, and blacks........still holding together, too. As are we all in our various ways!
like Sherry, i too have on my bed, on four couches and folded in a couple of closets, knitted blankets as gifts from my mamasita.
i'm loving your collection of Maya Angelou, one of my favorite all time singer of words
gracias for sharing and wish the best for you
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