….
I forgot this: measure twice, cut
once. See, your touch inched in
and cinched tight and I lost all
sense of direction, decorum, de
-light. I held the foundation in
my hands, but neglected to we
-igh the cost. And I lost.
…
Written for Poetic Asides.
Amazing. I could read it in many different ways. And it deserves a long comment. But I am spent. First, I read it as being about a grandmother who had died but whose memory and advice lives on, especially as you sew. You also feel lost without her because she meant so much to you. Excellent opening. Love what you did with “de-light”/”De’s light”
Of course, it’s also very likely about a relationship not handled and cared for properly. If you don’t “we,” you won’t have anything left. You will lose each other, you will lose yourself, and you will just lose in general.
“I lost all sense of direction, decorum” It happens so easily.
I also like what you did with “igh [I] the cost.” You’re what’s sacrificed. You’re what’s lost.
I wonder if “blue print” might be poetry written in blue ink. You are now reflecting on what has slipped between your fingers, leaving you all alone with your pen.
Well, you got a long comment after all.
Beautiful work, De! <3
Hello Miss Poet Laureate!! And this is a perfect example of why! Brilliant, my friend! ♥