I could fall into your blue squares,
pieced together stitch by stitch.
The tea pots promise reflection,
the curling leaves thread across the quilt's
perfectly shaded, soft yellow squares;
these background colors fade,
and I don't quite recognize
the precision of each square,
I'm lost in blue,
the choices we make.
A quilter knows her design,
what fabrics to choose,
when to sew, and
when to rip away
to create that