Laced in Time
A faded photograph from the old Morse School
(is that the teacher?),
scuffed and grayed tiny tied-together shoes,
a yellowed tablecloth safety-pinned with a paper scrap–
words penned in my mother-in-law’s hand,
“belonged to Grandma Sandquist,”–
a child’s tea set and a couple pocket watches,
a birthday date book presented in 1924
“with pleasant memories and best wishes
for your success” filled with daily quotes like
“The waters that are stillest are also the deepest” from
the Fair Maid of Perth and still used after 1971
(I know because I made the cut with my married name),
a replica of a Tow Low trailer and a
wooden horse carving that sports Turk’s actual hair
for mane and tail (I miss that guy–those days–
how he’d snort and prance along the fence when supper was late),
antique glass candle holders that graced the family table
that I forget to use on mine,
a woman’s brown felt hat and a paper mache St. Bernard,
the baby dress my Aunt Kay crocheted for me
worn also by my girl and her girls for fifteen minutes each,
handkerchiefs embroidered with green and purple S’s,
fine china and monogrammed spoons that my husband
claims came from cereal boxes,
a green clip that reads “Milk makes energy,”
small rose-colored chicken specs.
and I’ve only just begun to list
our history laced in time.
Still listing and lacing,
A response to Tweetspeak Poetry’s challenge
to write a poem inspired by lace.
This is probably not what they had in mind.
L.L. Barkat says
We only have in mind whatever you find in yours. I love all this lacing together of the past. Gracias, mi amiga.