Between the forefinger and thumb

lie the creases of an appeal.


A parchment

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.