Wednesday, June 16, 2010

(Not So) Empty Drawers

unfolding gently
an image of dusty rose, sage, and a pale yellow
like August sun sifting through a windowpane
each stitch tiny and exquisite
arching petals of delicate beauty
more feminine than I have ever been
with my hefty teals and square corners
I feel clumsy even touching it
meant for ivory finger grace
like bone china and opera gloves
not my curious hands
smoothing creases in age tinted fabric
imperfectly, but with great adoration