Between the forefinger and thumb
lie the creases of an appeal.
collaged with bleeding post-its, paper chits,
yellow squares of reminders
one-D windows of years gone by
The chintz sofa of a shared life is worn
The Persian rug threadbare
It slips when trodden.
The verdant woodland of togetherness, slightly barren
Pulsating reds reduced to pastel peaches
Turquoise nights to the navy of a nun's habit.
Velvet down to gingham
Such is the fate of old fabric...
Emerald stalks turn to pale straw
and words trickle down to a sewn silence.
Still, let's coexist...without contempt
Let not an eroded tapestry trip us
In this evening-shaded garret of life
companionship is enough.
The sienna sunset chooses to go down with the sky
unfurling a star-studded canvas, marking board pins of joys.