Tapestry

Felled canvas, blushing colors my life’s stitch ceaselessly applied.

What portrait stretches and looms it’s casement to my soul?

If all deeds behold with no aid of cloak, for sins sore shame to hide.

Needle pricked fingers recount thy yarn.

Shall I gaze upon a short winged angel,

laced in gutters where sensuality is defined?

How skillful the likeness of my windblown heart?

What shades of scarlet ooze that aching part?

I hesitate looking at past reckless deeds.

An aimless design, quite careless in needs.

Where smugness suspends me in self sapid stitches.

And ghost like thread for inches and inches.

How large the spool my decent breadth hold?

Done in shimmering shades, one strand in gold.

Exotic silk tells of interlaced moments.

Iron on patches for the worn out fragments.

With thimble to guard sharp and knotty shadows.

There's much labor left to sew many tomorrows.

https://oc.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8kjhmy/portico_of_maples/

https://oc.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8kpyrh/sinking_with_the_ship/