backstitch

Artwork by Maggie Kane

she bears the weight of her solitude

alone in that house,

belonging to two.

the knitted touch of love,

simply a frequent visitor

in the hours spent sifting

through my memory.

is there any comfort

          in this sorrow?

any quilted pleasure,

woven in this pain?

so tell me what remains,

         of that untold story.

sandy toes and crackling fire,

a wrinkled grin,

a freckled smile.

or only the blue face of my father—

                 stitched tightly

            through

a pair of lace teeth

in a pasture of red lilies

left rotten,

deceased.

i don’t want to forget you.

     i’m scared,

          i’ll forget you.

tomorrow, i’ll write myself a note:

               fold the tweeded sweaters,

              you’ll leave for me after you’re gone.

         and try my best to stay long enough

    so maybe then you won’t be

the one to grieve,

the first to say goodbye.