on THE WALL
A Crazy Quilt
They do not make them any more,
For quilts are cheaper at the store
Than woman's labor, though a wife
Men think the cheapest thing in life.
But now and then a quilt is spread
Upon a quaint old walnut bed,
A crazy quilt of those old days
That I am old enough to praise.
Some old woman sewed these points and square
Into a pattern like life's cares.
Here is a velvet that was strong,
The poplin that she wore so long,
A fragment from her daughter's dress
Like her, a vanished loveliness;
Old patches of such things as these,
Old garments and old memories.
And what is life? A crazy quilt;
Sorrow and joy, and grace and guilt,
With here and there a square of blue
For some old happiness we knew;
And so the hand of time will take
The fragments of our lives and make,
Out of life's remnants, as they fall,
A thing of beauty, after all.
Douglas Malloch
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Seriously. Days pass here and spring moves so slowly Ive been feeling (selfishly) kind of cheated.
I grabbed a few scraps of self, now held together with what little green I could find. A patchwork promise. A reminder to be patient. Just a little something for these days that always promise to be warmer.
But then. Ok. Promise kept.
Warmer than promised. I guess promises aren't really that precise. Just a sense of what might be possible.
