The pattern was stitched, two over!

The very fabric of my existence

formed by your acquaintance knitted,

now torn by time;

my clothes don't fit,

dethreaded by age,

loose ends crying,

tied in knots from living,

the crossover of us severed

is no longer more.

Reviews

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

Lovely and melancholy poem. The fabric of a relationship "torn by time". Great metaphor and imagery. "Loose ends crying". This fabric bleeds. Beautiful.

[andrew mitchell]

lovely to have you visit annette and leaving kind words.