Lessons

What I had no skill to finish,
your hands took up despite the daily
endless supply of chores—

Into the night, on my school sampler,
you cross-stitched chains and antlers
upon a bordered field: deer

with craned necks and lifted hooves
impatient as I was for an end
to the ruled hours. When and how

did I come to know at last
all I had no clue about? I learned
to watch and listen as you worked,

making thrift with rations, but
unstinting with anything that could be made
to bloom in the wounded rags of our days.

One Reply to “Lessons”

Leave a Reply to rknester Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.