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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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One is holding,
Sitting with unbearable longing,
Impatient, waiting, trembling.

The other is bursting
Playing, full out
Alive.

One has begun
The unfolding process
Aware.

I so dislike the word
Process.

I want it all now.

Image

Flower
Peeking from its very own petals
Girl rising from her previous
Self consciousness.

Fear shrugged off
Light warms.
Joyful.

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting

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