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Button lies heavy.
It’s hard, black surface
Standing still and
Finding small comfort
Among the shiny, wrinkled ribbons
Of deep red.

Button reaches –
Touching the sister ribbon
Of faded yellow-green
Wanting what the ribbons have.

Ribbons so entangled.
Enmeshed in the softness
That cloud-like yarn offers
In gratitude.

They hardly notice
Button’s earnest effort;
Feeling only the weight.
Glass button, a sharp contrast.

Button, oh ill shaped button
Not a square, nor a circle
Who made you?

How is it you have landed here?

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile – as a distraction.

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Scraps…

The familiar.
What makes for the look sideways,
Over there?
Just to make sure the stuff is in its place.

Is it the dream?
That maybe.
Another look, only one this week.
Might it appear different?
Transformed!

Truly, it was the imagination,
All of those cruel words.
Words, words, and words…
Hurled words, like boulders.

Am I alive
Or merely a shell
The remnant of a person?
Having withstood, facing head-on,
With few words of my own
In combat.

Fail quickly, someone told me,
Too late!

See there, the empty, bent trash can.
Fill and tie a tight, square knot, with lid crammed shut.
The heavy thing carried away, by someone else.
A kind, hardworking soul.
Or, the virtual trash can, that makes a real sound.

Who cares how?
Only in the gratitude
That the space is now cleared.
New meaning allowed for, in this pretend life,
My one chance, I presume.

Limp to the safety.
Of the empty space.

And, rest for a while.

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile – as a distraction.

When spending time
Putting things that go together
The choice might be very clear.

Tomatoes, onions and garlic with lettuce
Sugar and cream with coffee
Warm apples with butter and cinnamon
Bread with cheese, and a drop of wine.

White socks and black, shiny shoes
A blue fountain pen with sheets of clean paper
Big leather couches with soft knit pillows
A bright rug, bigger than the table, on a dark, wood floor.

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There used to be a sewer’s rule
When picking thread for fabric:
“When in doubt,
Go Darker!” – I still hear the words!

Yet, where is the fun in that?
Where’s the surprise?
Where’s the drama?

Why not play?
Why not look around?
Why choose the obvious?

 

Making a bold statement
Does have consequences, though.
The sewing must be perfect
In order to pull it off!

 

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting