This week, let’s write a haberdasher poem. While the term is not in common use these days, what it refers to is still quite common. I’ll leave it to the poet to decide which meaning applies to the poem, posted in the comments below.

https://wp.me/p4Wo4X-252

The Haberdasher

In a little shop
between yesterday
and tomorrow,

the haberdasher keeps
drawers of buttons,

spools of thread,

ribbons curled
like sleeping memories,

and needles sharp enough
to mend
what has come apart.

People arrive
carrying torn things—

a missing button,

a fallen hem,

a favourite coat
too loved
to throw away.

“Can you fix this?”

Such a small question.

Yet I wonder
how often
we ask the same
of life.

Can you stitch
this heart?

Can you patch
this memory?

Can you find
a thread strong enough
to hold together
the pieces
I thought I’d lost?

Perhaps we are all
haberdashers
in the end—

collecting scraps,

matching colours,

learning where
to place the needle,

and discovering
that mending
does not make something
less beautiful.

Sometimes

the stitches
are the very proof

that something
was loved enough

to keep.

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With love, coffee, poetry, and stardust,

— Maggie The Afterlove Voice 💫

https://ditto.fm/silenced-but-not-broken

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If you want a reading, send me an email:

Afterlove-Voice@hotmail.com

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