Quilted

It’s a piece of my childhood
that held me at night.

Constructed
from shreds of memories
left behind.

Stitched with care, by
the hands that held me
and nursed my pain.

Lovingly pieced
from dresses, worn
with history and experience,
as if life ended there
in that childish moment.

Where chasing flowers
and playing ponies
was the reason we skipped
through fields, hiding
our shoes in bushes
and hiking our skirts to splash
through puddles and skip
our stones.

So I’ll pass this on
and wrap them in it
and hope they stay
warm in the freedom
of love in these
simple things

Where we
build our own
memories like towers
of blocks and picnics
and castle sand
paintings

To give them this
piece from one
child in the night
grown now to whisper
and hold them both tight.