Engrossed Grandmother In Her Cross Stitching

it is this absurdity of choosing words
for a nice handiwork

knitting some fairies in some mathematical colors of threads
some butterflies and flowers in bright colors

a painting in cloth and threads
takes time
when she is finally hypnotized

falling into a deep sleep
inside a room
where she is alone on dim light

i open the door
i see the best handiwork of God
a woman so indulged so engrossed
in her art

sleeping.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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