I’ve had this quilt for five months now, a belated birthday present from last year. The quilt covering me every night, and I wonder and I dream, of the past, and the future. The past clings to me, like a warm blanket, and the future awakens every morning, when I toss the sheets back over the quilt.
A Quilt, For A Good Man.
A quilt, made by hand.
Definitely for a man.
Bold and beautiful.
But again, I was a fool.
A quilt, for lonely nights.
Definitely made for a cool moonlight.
Patterns of music notes and instruments.
But a gift, not Mozart’s 1st movement.
A quilt, reminding me constantly.
Definitely not unpleasantly.
Like winter leaves, grey and black.
And again, there’s no turning back.