Blanket_Weaver

I watch her hands with the needles
Over and through
Over and through
As her story is knitted in a simple row of white
Her hands tell the stories
Of a suffering age
Of a loving heart
Of the fiercest will
The yarn comes together to show her to me
Her life
Her laughter
Her heartache
Her love
Each inch of yarn folded and twisted to be
Her happiness
Her sorrow
Her strength
Her weakness
And now her arms no longer enfold me
Her needles are still and her hands are silent
But her life wraps around me
As I huddle beneath it
And it keeps me from cold
As she would have done
Her life in every stitch
Every row
Every turn
Every knot
Every little imperfection.
And so she will live on in me.