Friday, May 20, 2011


floursack quilt
Found at Church Rummage Sale
On Green Lane in Manayunk

The Eastman Road Quilt

She said she had something to give me
& we climbed the stairs, past the
Shining paneled walls of the upstairs hall & she led me to the small door of the eaves.
In there, she said
In that box.
Go on, take it.

I protested. I don't want to take anything away from your family.

No, she said,
No one in my family made it.
The lady down the road did.

I thanked her again, and took in the pink vision.

Her own bed downstairs was covered by a butterfly quilt. She had said her mother had made it.

Gladys was 87.
When I helped her to bed for her afternoon nap, I would cover her with those colorful butterflies & smile.

I drove home that day, off the farm, off the cape, wondering which house, which lady made the quilt.

When I got home I laid it out. Admiring it's subtleties. It's pink variations, the red squares in the center. The green yarn.
The calico back.

I packed it away today, thinking
Of the big oak in Gladys side yard.
The eave where it was stored for all those years.
& I think of Gladys
Her garden & hydrangeas, fixing her food, eating in the pale purple dining room with the wood stove and her stories
& am so grateful of
Her generosity.

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