My life is a tapestry sewn with regret
Wrapping myself up sometimes
Tight
So tight, I can barely breathe
Sometimes I lay it out
Flat
With a needle, I pull up threads
Changing the patterns
Manipulating
Turning some inside out, upside down
Staining with the red in me
Naked
I lie with my tapestry
So clear, no illusions just fear
Folded
One layer upon layer
Until there’s no definition to my craft
Forgotten
Tucked away high in a box
Falling when the cold makes me ache
(10/14/98) Reheated Leftover
Articles of Absurdity 
This is good!
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You are a talented chick! Margie
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I know…..No, seriously…thanks. I have my moments.
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Beautiful poetry. I don’t know what else to say. It’s rare, so enjoy it.
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Thanks. If you are referring to my moments..I know. i will try to enjoy the rare creative and talented moments. They don’t come often.
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How old is this one? I really like it. Very very very good imagery and metaphor.
Red.
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I’ll add it to the top: 1998
The trust poem was hot of the presses, but this was a reheated leftover for sure. Glad you liked this one. I quite enjoyed myself after all this time.
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Then you are going to absolutely love this morning’s offering.
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And…I do.
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Honestly, this was brilliant.
I LOVE that first line…
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Thanks. You make a girl blush. You notice I didn’t say lady.
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Great imagery with the needle and layering of words and images!
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Coming from you….great compliment. Thanks.
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This is amazing. You just hit the nail on the head in such a creatively beautiful way!
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AND…..I love a creatively beautiful comment. Thanks.
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