Poem: The Old Quilt

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The Old Quilt

Snippets of cloth.
Cotton threads.
A hundred and fifty years.

The threads are looser.
The color has faded,
but just a bit.

There is still magic.
There is still beauty,
and a wonderment in the holding together.

About this poem

The picture of the quilt was taken in Whitehall, NY. It was done in the 1870’s.

I almost called the poem “Life”.

Tom

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