Piecemeal

 

This poem may seem nostalgic, but not everything about the past is worth saving.  I hope you like my thinly-veiled criticism of the practice, of passing rules about public health, one business at a time.  Thanks for coming by to read.

 

One at a time,

I card and spin,

I knit and purl

One stitch at a time.

 

I make my widgets

One by one,

From wood and nails

And sweat and sighs.

 

One at a time,

I fashion shoes

From patterns from

The mists of time.

 

From recipes

Of great-great-grands,

I mix my batter,

Fill my pies.

 

One at a time,

I write my words,

I scratch on paper,

Dip in ink.

 

Apply a salve,

One strip at a time,

Each bandage

Curing what’s beneath.

 

I make my lace

One loop at a time.

A cuff takes days,

A collar, weeks.

 

I walk to town,

One step at a time.

No locomotive

Soothes my heels.

 

We make pronouncements,

One at a time,

Each lonely cottage

Industry,

 

While sliding downward,

One at a time,

Towards cottage

Life expectancy.

 

Copyright 2021 Andrea LeDew

 

For a post from a year ago on the prospect of sending our kids back to school, from a homeschooler’s perspective, read Falling Behind.

For a mini-story about feeling abandoned, read Labrador.