Friday 8 July 2022

 

a tangled.woven.weakened.beating heart :: of multiple hues.weights.threads.fibers

by Jen Scheider


balls of yarn rest in a fabric tote at the bottom of the front hall closet. all fibers tangled. knots extend across generations as elastic continues to pull. & pulse. fibers of varying hues – indigo dyes & pure wool in shades on a spectrum. charcoal to crimson. cranberry & chocolate. frayed fibers find then make meaning in patterns of varying degrees. difficulty dances with separation. shadows linger.

threads weighted of time & testimony tango. needles pump silent noise. grandfather clocks tick. brass chimes breed. tones tune locks on memory as needles click. eyes always watching. on both sides of what we call life.
 
a small spider weaves a web at the base of excess wicker. i wonder if the spider knew of charlotte. who asked wilbur, what’s a life, anyway? we’re born. we live a little. we die. wilbur wove a wonderful reply. despite no proclaimed skill with/of/for words. to give & to get. wilbur’s generous offer. his life for hers. one question. infinite ways to spin a reply. 
 
what’s a life, anyway
 
10 (plus) ways to describe a life
 

     1.    flavors (milk chocolate, sour lemon, cheddar cheese) & pavers (concrete, travertine, rubber). scents (lilac) & sensibilities (longing). 
     2.    rainbow striped knee highs & denim’s open flies. conversation buzzes.
     3.    stainless steel pots of homemade chicken broth. no bones allowed. 
     4.    freshly diced carrots. slightly spiced peas. pearls. fresh from the pod.
     5.    drawers of cotton t’s. navy stripes. peek-a-boo heels. tattletale gray. white cotton toes. hose of herringbone & charcoal. 
     6.    beds of satin cases. solitary vases. twin sheets. times two. quilts of apricot gingham. goose down blends. 
     7.    mickey mouse alarms. armstrong wake ups. 
     8.    dark blinders over eyes. sheer lace over windows. 
     9.    closets of moth balls. attics of mice. 
     10.  memories tangled. in balls of yarn that rest in the bottom of a fabric tote at the back of the front hall closet. waiting & awaiting. 
     11.  a sign. at the door. in the window. of the heart. on a wish. that charlotte is only half right.


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Jen Schneider is an educator who lives, writes, and works in small spaces throughout Pennsylvania. Recent works include A Collection of Recollections, Invisible Ink, On Habits & Habitats, and Blindfolds, Bruises, and Breakups.

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