Thursday, December 26, 2013

Twice Measured

Twice measured, but never cut -
fading fabric waiting.
Sugar that I've spared the spoon
and spices I've been saving.
Dresses on their hangers.
A plot bought on the hill.
A record of my wishes
as if my wishes will
force the bloom from thistled habit

and put scissors to the fabric.

7 comments:

Brian Miller said...

at some point it is time to stop measuring and start cutting...

Susan said...

Your charm-like couplets continue to roll forth here, this time dryly and directly from preparations to readiness ... but the bloom glows and the three fates will not be forced to wield the scissors. They must contend with newer gods and God too as well as the strength of the life force. So whether it is a group of people (like a convent)or one thorny grump, even twice measured may not be enough.

grapeling said...

I bleeping love this.

hedgewitch said...

A contemplative feel of self-examination here soon becomes universal, yet remains simple and fits any heart that finds it. Very fine poem, MZ.

J Cosmo Newbery said...

I wish you well! ;-)

Fireblossom said...

Run with them.

Lorraine said...

now you have to let it go and see what comes up, or down, love it