HOLES
The wall clock is round, but, the holes in the lacy table centerpiece were hooked in, with the art of crochet; my grandma taught me about chains and trebles; she slipped through the hole of existence, gone to the other side, quite a long time ago and I'm still looping these tiny bits of nuances together, lacing her memory into beautiful reminders.
© gillena cox 2017
[Susie's prompt is to write a poem from your immediate surroundings.]
