A Wild Garden (from “The Island”)

She took to embroidery in vivid colours. A deep red linen.
The threads were yellow, green and blue. Mingled with gold and silver.
It will be a border for a dress. A row of alternating diamonds.
Inside the diamonds are eyelets in yellow. Adorned with small gold spangles.

The morning light warmed her. The balcony view of a garden.
A chesa moth flew into the house. It fluttered about a bit.
It passed through all the empty rooms. Then out into the sun.
She paused to look at her work. Patted the fabric and smiled.

She used an old tapestry frame. The stitches looked perfect.
She learned to work this way. A machine could’ve done the stitches.
A heartless fastidiousness. Learned through many years of practise.
Sitting on the balcony with needle and threads. She cries a bit.

She felt footsteps on the floorboards. He stood behind her.
But it was just her pulse. It was just her heart.
He asked if she would join him for lunch. Out in the garden.
But it was just the breeze. The clink of Mother-of-Pearl.

The border is half-finished. She will end with a toothed edge.
But that will take a while. She is old and tired.
He leaves quietly. The tears dry on her cheeks.
The garden is wild with weeds. But their flowers are pretty.

Fatima Lasay, San Roque
Tuesday, March 18, 2014

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