the cake might’ve been eaten
in a single summer afternoon.
a lifetime later,
we sleep sweetly under the quilts,
eventually coming to understand
and appreciate
the investment made.



the steady, rhythmical whirring
of the old singer machine
is interrupted
only when
she stops to reach
into the brown paper lunch bag
pulling out bits of fabric,
pinning them to each other,
right sides together.
to create quilts –
one for each child,
one for each grandchild.


BrianQuilt1a copy

the scraps she got from
the woman across the street,
paid for with her
coconut upside-down cake.


To get my writing legs back under me, I’m penning 100 stories in 100 days. Maybe you want to subscribe and have it delivered to your front door every morning? Just mash the button in the orange box at the top of the screen and follow the directions.