+ Her Barefoot Heart

Tag: autoclothography

surrogate

KippsQuilt11

When my son graduated from high school,
I made him a quilt.

KippsQuilt7

Simple blocks
of fabrics decorated
by his family, friends, and teachers.

KippsQuilt20

It is not perfect a perfect quilt.
I am not a perfect mother.

KippsQuilt2

But it does keep him warm,
hold him tightly when my arms can’t reach,
and shelter him when the world is just too much.

panes

Pane

i cleaned windows today.

on one,
i used
glass cleaner,
paper towels,
and elbow grease.

on the other,
i used
honesty,
love,
and
trust.

i can see clearly now.

magic

Stitches

stitching.
battening down,
i call it.

riding the thread
to places
unknown
and known but forgotten
and known . . . but maybe not really.

rhythm
soothing
surprising
and still
relaxing in its predictability.

up and down

space for pondering things like
being taken care of
and
self reliance
and
my children
and
my female ancestors
who spent a goodly
part of each day
stitching.
thinking
about fine lines
distinguishing
humility from self-deprecating humor,
for example
and how easy it is for us
to believe the worst in ourselves
instead of the best.
why is that, anyway?

back and forth

thinking backwards about what was,
forward about what if,
and right now
about what is.
or what i sense
is
is.

in and out

thoughts flying.
captured
then released.
remembered
then forgotten,
marked
then erased.

stitches
knots
woven
frayed.