small comfort

so long so long
since i have been here
dipping into this icy lake

uncoloured morning
slippered and blanket wrapped
for the cold cold
that sits at the base of the spine

where the donkey was nail beat years ago
on a red dust road in the sun
make-shift harnessed to a scrap cart
going nowhere

same low curve back where the needles
were inserted three times epidural
to numb to numb the cutting births
with their spilling and stitching
three girls three girls and joy

wrap wrap in blankets
shorn from the goats long locks
falling warm from the slow breathing flanks
new hair bright white in the shade.
washed and combed fibres aligned
ready to spin fine and steady
by winter fires

dyed in skeins with baths of leaves
moonflower and henna
and fragrant persicaria
until greens and golds
double dipped in indigo
it dries in the sun while goats sleep
and dream their green season babies.

until quiet quiet on long journeys
keeping an eye on slow mountains
the mohair is stitched
square by square
into this blanket that years later

wraps, warms the cold of my back
while the sun fills the sky on
still mornings approaching the solstice.

Linking to Earthweal’s open link weekend #122


3 thoughts on “small comfort

  1. This is lovely – the blanket, “three girls and joy,” and those goats that “dream their green season babies.” I am worried about the donkey though. I love the “red rust road in the sun.”

    Liked by 1 person

  2. What is stitched together from memory are squares of moments woven with care, as the thread is shorn from goats and cultivated with color. Such a warm endowment, a cocoon of rebirth for the solstice. Amen.

    Liked by 1 person

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