Old Cardigan Conversations

Warm woollen sentences,

Words knitting, weaving,

Voices entwining in

Hand-stitched syllables,

Quilted with shared thoughts

And memories unspoken,

Soothing, serene,

And soft as evening sunbeams

Shedding chill from prickled skin.

In a blanket of words,

Empty spaces too carry

A glow in each silence

Stretched lazily around,

Hanging meaning punctuated

With sentences unspoken,

Still snug as autumn gold

With no cumbersome consonants,

Comfort too in quiet.

Our fabric soft with age,

Worn by time for so long

But yet to be outgrown,

Replete with tattered holes

But yet to bear a draft,

Loose threads never tied

But yet to snag and tear,

Draped across shoulders,

All wrapped in nostalgia.

Every new conversation

A favourite old cardigan.