the day
in stitching
finds its place
the pattern
familiar
though
a little vague
for I have gazed
so long
there is water
in my eyes
I see the shapes
but blur the edges
of meandering lines
but
cross and cross
and cross
again
a colour
for each moment
and each
correspondent
mood
something begins
something
to emerge
stitch long enough
I’ll stitch
a whole world
maybe
I’ll stitch myself in there
too
everyone a place
including me
in the end
all
tucked in
no loose
remains
just me
in a corner
and the picture
of a day
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Frank Prem Poetry 