Quilt
I came together stitch by stitch,
pink and green flowers,
making me tickle and itch.
The hands that held me,
gave me away,
tied up in a package dawned with a bow,
untied, lifted, and held tight,
to a little girl who squealed with delight.
Worn and torn for years to come,
ripped and soiled, hugged and loved.
Like a story, passed along,
giggles and laughter,
held by little girls filled with song.
I layed across beds,
warding off monsters,
over forty years old and falling apart,
never thrown away—
folded and creased, laying in the closet
waiting to hear that song again.
