A force majeure, female catalyst, futurist, polemicist, psychonaut, epistemologist. Ruminating between the lines with a clarion call and extreme unction. A global writer with southern roots.
Blankie is Twice the Gift
from seeds planted to cotton,
pulled, thrashed, cleaned, and dyed
tightly twisted, stretched,
wound in a ball,
all this i can not remember.
my first memory was of the sweetest lady
that toted me around,
worked me through her fingers,
with two long wooden needles,
knitting from colorful pastels,
finally i was finished in september.
wrapped in colorful paper,
an heirloom of comfort,
i know how special i am.
made with love for the sweet lady’s grand,
i was finally opened in november.
fresh, clean, and proud in the pictures,
i swaddled her dearly.
drooled on, slept with, dragged under first steps,
clung to when mom and dad first left,
she called me blankie.
i was scared when she left her binky,
then cadbury, jelly bean, and teddy ripken.
but here i am, looped on her backpack
heading to our first day at school.
worn and frayed at the edges,
falling apart, i still feel special.
soothing and calming,
when bullies push and tease us,
salty tears fall on what’s left of me.
she screams, “everyone is smarter with one,
go ask linus van pelts and what about pooh?
you know aloysius went to oxford university!”
i remember once she cried when she lost me.
“i’m here!, i’m here!”, i shouted from under her bed.
she could not hear me.
a whole day went by before she found me...
i am sure you have a story about your security friend.
please tell me and give them a hug from blankie!
a tremble runs through her body,
squeezing me tightly, she tries to understand,
breaking news is scary.
i look up at her and see she has an idea,
everyone needs a blankie.
thats when her mom found our special project,
once a month she takes me.
we share our precious security, giving out blankets.
then one day she wakes with joy in her eyes,
finally she is ready to repair me.
new threads weave in between me and her fingers.
she packs me in paper, takes me for a visit to the nursing home,
and hands me into familiar hands.
“mimi”, she says, “you made blankie for me
but now blankie wants to comfort you”, and i did!