what was the last stitch you made?
was it as blithe as the first?
or was it lost to incongruous days
with hours moving in and out
backwards and forwards?
Do you remember?
or was your last thought your sewing?
the wardrobes and wardrobes
of clothes, uniforms, wedding dresses
flowing through your mind as linen blows
whilst hanging on a line
Do you remember?
or did the white flag of life turn ashen
then ebony
as memories faded to –
to what?
Dust.
Do you remember?
did I pass through your mind?
fingers lacing over cloth
as bobbin thread and upper casing thread
latched together, imbedding a line into fabric
I thought the fabrics of your life were made
of fustian, of stuff that couldn’t break
but perhaps we are all just stitching onto tissue paper
praying our lives won’t break
Do you remember?
I still have the dress
that you took apart
and sewed back together
it now hangs in a wardrobe
encased in two bin bags sellotaped together
sometimes I try to restitch
wholeness back into myself
the tissue-paper walls of my world
pleading for them to be healed into fustian
of stuff that can’t break
but they can only be fixed by one thing
the agape love that covers everything
Do you remember?