Today's poem is by Lorna Knowles Blake


Just like Eve in the garden,
who knew the word fruit
but not its implications, a bride
wanders through store aisles.

She sees buttons, grommets,
pinking shears, needles, spools
of mercerized thread, and doesn't
think fastened, trimmed, mended.

Sees bolts of fabric, doesn't think
bias, cut. When the apple-shaped
pin cushion catches her eye,
she doesn't yet think heart, pierced.

Copyright © 2007 Lorna Knowles Blake All rights reserved
from Lumina
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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