Summer Dresses

My mom.

Hoarder of fabrics.

Collector of

buttons

and pins

and bobbins

and quilt magazines

all in hopes

of future beautiful things.

With the sidewalk as my runway

I was a school-girl model

for her hand-sewn creations.

And honestly

secretly envious

of the girls with store-bought clothes.

Simplicity was a common a word in our home.

Pattern packets were old friends

my mom pulled from the cabinet

and used 

over and over again.

Ordinary things

for sewing hands

cluttered the counters

and covered 

the dining room table.

Except at Thanksgiving

when the table was cleared

of the sewing hardware

and threads

and zippers

and replaced

with

fine china

and

five fat roasted

Cornish Hens.

Because my step-dad

didn't like turkey.

Yawwwwwn.

Stretch.

Burp.

And the table

turns back into

Sewing Central.

All these years later

after closet cleaning

drawer emptying

and box sorting

some of

the rolled scraps

and leftovers

landed

with me.

An artist of another sort.

I'm finding peace

and lots of smiles

in the woven memories

as I bring them to new life

on my canvases.

Although I should probably call this one

Camp Shirt-Summer Dress-Fifth Grade Nightgown

in commemoration

of all the life passages

and moments

I see in these

patches of fabric-store memories

I probably will just

call it

Torn Summer Bouquet

and smile

because no one really really knows

but me.