There Should Be Gifts

There Should Be Gifts

Tree fractals: a veil, focused, unfocused,
accentuated, processed...
a caul, a lit membrane
set between seeing and forgetting...
waves, webs, veins, a net for the eyes...
A beech wood in November.

A picture made by my mother:
hand stitched, machine stitched,
tip of her tongue between her lips.
Stem stitched, back stitched,
herringboned, zigzagged.
A beech wood in November.

She saw angels between branches,
ghosts, witches, artists,children, friends,
and then nothing. What was it, finished?
An heirloom, a gift to be forgotten?
The thin veil between us.
A beech wood in November.