History Written With Cloth


Mama's hands, persistent, talented
cut strips from abandoned clothes…
My father’s torn shirts, school dresses
my sisters and I had danced through
hand me down until they were too frail,
and her blouses no thread could
patch to hold another button.

To a casual eye it made no sense,
but for Mama she saw a rug,
a place to sit our shoes, warm our feet,
a scrapbook her little girls could lie on,
and feel memories beneath their cheeks. 

Rainbow ribbons formed from
a sewing machine hum as stitches
joined fabric of yesterday Mama knew
would warm our tomorrows. 

Always original mama didn’t braid
her strips of cloth…No, that would 
be too predictable…She took a hook,
ignored the rectangle, and crocheted
her rugs into circles and ovals. 

I wish I had one of them now.
I would give it the honor it deserves,
hang it on the wall, invite my sisters
to touch its weaving, and let our hands
read the history our mama had written with cloth.


©Susie Clevenger 2025


Comments

Sherry Blue Sky said…
Yes, those items would be such treasures now. My grandma did rag rugs too. Having gne through the depression, that generation of women were ingenious at wasting nothing. I love the photos, Susy. Old photos are themselves such treasures.
January 18, 2025 at 2:05 PM
Marja said…
Beautiful memories of your mum's golden hands I love 'the history our mama had written with cloth.'
January 18, 2025 at 3:51 PM
Susan said…
"Mama's hands, persistent, talented" yes. Perfect adjectives for my mother, too. I love how you laid out your poem from materials to finished products to their absence. I wish I had so much that my mother made--the quilts! I only kept one.
January 18, 2025 at 6:56 PM
Rajani said…
Precious memories... and hats off to women who knew everything about reuse and recycling and upcycling way before the words became famous! Such skill- and love!
January 18, 2025 at 7:15 PM
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