I am very excited to have this poem, “Stitching Together,” and two others of mine in a newly published anthology of poems, Pandemic Puzzle Poems Selected by Diane Frank and Prartho Sereno. It is perfect timing for this marvelous book. There are 92 writers represented, some famous, some not. The poetry is earnest and moving. As Joseph Zaccardi says on the back of the book– “To write a single poem is a selfless act and a minor miracle. In times of trouble people often turn to poems, and poems often turn into prayers.” You can get this at Bookshop.org, or your local bookstore or Amazon.

Stitching Together

I used to craft quilts with goats.
Mom sewed cotton shirts, shifts,
and my turquoise linen wedding dress.
She always begged me
to help her thread the needle
on the ancient, faithful Singer.

Even with two pairs of reading glasses,
one on top of the other,
lights turned up, I can barely see
the needle’s eye.
I call my daughter.

Last time I followed a sewing pattern
was forty-nine years ago.
I have a new machine now, all digital.
My daughter invents dancing skirts for friends.
I cut rectangles for masks
from fabric with pink elephants and orange lions.

We sew masks with stars and strawberries,
black squares for her friend, blue fish for her Dad.
I am vindicated for hoarding
old sheets, t-shirts, ribbons and bandanas.
We clothe their faces and manage their fates