fabrics of every hue

rainbows
of color
flowing through our fingers
yarn becoming fabric
fabric becomes scraps and pieces
torn to shreds
by scissors and fingers
and sewed back together
and pigments mixed and
remixed and sand
and glue and fiber
and mud and clay
working in the earth
in the materials of the womb
as we grow old
we struggle with the old woman who
bore us pulling from her
every last color and hue and
tint
so
we can see
and view
and know
about her
the mother of us all.