Warping the weft

sketch the little lines
of an unending thread

light into leaf
into bud into pod
erupting with possibility

spun, spinning,
will eventually spin
in passing towers
dancing on the plains

little lines flowing
into themselves

piggyback lies
and truths under
the thrashing sheets

sheets woven,
weaving, will be
weaved, grieved and
left on the line to dry

bleached little lines
of multi facet colors

each face taking
and adding and layering
their own earthen plies

due sighs for waste
in past haste of wandering
the fiber to wonder,
to ponder the fiber

fabricated little lines
laundered in life's lather

surrendering wills to
washer women at
the Dead Sea coast

and baptizing rivers
weaving and leaving
layers in the coffer
that all contribute to