purple
I sat on my sister’s bed
next to her
and crocheted the rug
she had begun for her youngest son.
She rests against the headrest
propped on pillows
her eyes closed as an afternoon soap
plays its family dramas.
I twine the purple wool
across my fingers
and hope my stitches are as neat and firm
as hers.
The purple yarn is dark and luxurious
too opulent
for a young man to throw across
the back seat of his car.
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Ron
Lovely the colour purple...stitches entertwined with love.
Lady Mary Ann
budd