Mom had a sewing basket
she’d pull out of an evening
with a pile of mending
and while the tv murmured
she sat by a bright lamp and
pulled needle and thread
through
a torn shirt pocket
a hem falling down from a skirt
or hang a
button back on jeans
she was like that with the family
when children bickered
she set things aright
pull the threads tight
that kept us a family
when Dad was upset
we’d hear the quiet conversation
a murmur through the thin bedroom door
she’d put a button on the discontent
pull us back together, a family
she’s gone now
gone to be with Jesus
I have a sewing basket too
and mending to do
time and again with my wife
I learned it from Mom
patiently pull the threads
snip the loose ones
patch the holes
and carry on
