Colours of Thread

full moon

listening

at an open window



Recently I and the three-year-old daughter of an acquaintance exchanged colourful gifts: an illustrated children’s book for a sparkly, hand-drawn thank-you card. An unspoken kind of bond threaded its way between us, wispy, drifting, curling.

Sometimes such threads become flecks of dream or memory.

I treasure that gift. I hope these poems beckon something in that manner for you.