Old Fabric Poem by Vinita Agrawal

Old Fabric

Between the forefinger and thumb
lie the creases of an appeal for Godknowswhat.

A parchment
collaged with wrinkled post-its, paper chits,
yellow square one-D windows
of years gone by.

The chintz sofa of a shared life is worn
Its Persian rug threadbare -
slipping from beneath the feet
The vases that held woodlands of togetherness, now barren.

Pulsating reds reduced to pastel peaches
Turquoise nights to the navy of a nun's habit.
Velvet down to gingham
Such the fate of old fabric…

Even so, we coexist…without contempt
Not allowing an eroded tapestry to trip us
Though emerald stalks are pale straw
and words are sewn to silence.

In this evening-shaded garret of life
companionship is enough.
Look at the sienna sunset going down gently with the sky
unfurling a star-studded night canvas like board-pins of joys.
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