Life has been
a hodgepodge of
disparate pieces,
well worn from
holding too tight,
too few releases.

From ill fitting
patches.
Stitched together
with whatever
color
I had.
No thought to
matches.

Just, could I get
this thread
through
the eye of
that needle,
and thereby
hold it all
together too?

I know that
when you see
my quilt,
you shrink away,
cringing,
disdaining apparent
filth.

But I wrap
this tattered mantle,
warmly
all about me.
In my way
I’m proud of it,
threadbare
though it may be.

M. Zane McClellan

Copyright 2015
All rights reserved

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