I still see you and your turquoise rings
your silver arm cuffs
the sharp white bob
of your swinging hair
You and my mother shared yarn
and yesterdays, talked looms
and love lost, wove warm wraps
and whispered of things
you wanted to spare your children
Always I think of you regal
a detoured queen in West Texas
all dry humor and
that snap-quick mind
Your sister tells me
you are in the stars tonight
your tired shell left on earth
cast like a dry snakeskin
Free now to bend light
like the silkiest yarns
to carry the skyʻs colors
over under over under
What does one weave
when shed of this place?
Maybe a bright shawl
spanning sunrise and sunset
something that holds the light here
for us
