Poem 142: Thimbleful
She of the velvet existence--
lonely for
the camomile beach and
the creak and sway of old, moored boats and
her thimbleful of unhurried joy--
laughed pleasantly, ignoring
the old missing that pleaded
and tightened, her fingers
clutching a long-missing tube
of Prussian Blue paint.
(c) 2013, by Hannah Six
Dear readers:
My poetry will soon appear on its own (non-knitting) blog! After this week, I will post my daily poems at http://hannahsix.blogspot.com/
Please bookmark the new site now, so you can keep on keeping me company on this crazy journey...
Thank you for reading!
Hannah
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