a patterned cloth hangs overhead
broad-stitched little shapes
strung down in ruffled drapes
edges frayed; the corners soft
lash-like lines of green
making cuts less clean
you will never see it
gardened over folds
aging nails soon free it
from two fragile holds
paisley words all set in mud
patternless; out-dated
artfully out-stated
edges curved as fabric's flow
lines that twist and swivel
flowered patterns fiddle
you will never see it
gardened 'cross blank white
tiring lips soon free it
and then again, not quite
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