The Moment-Weaver

Updated: Aug 7, 2019

By Samantha Jory-Smart

I braided remnants of the sea

dribbling out from swollen waves

into a fishtail

and wove my garden

into a trail of roses and weeds

I crocheted my thoughts together

after combing frayed edges straight

and I plaited a bowl of

gossamer breaths

into a bracelet

for the Earth.

Now my fingers are limp.

They fumble with the exhaustion

only bones know

so I’ll leave the trees

to knit the horizon back together

themselves.