This morning, one of my last fall swims, the sky so blue overhead, a few contrails, one cloud. One of my last fall swims. At home, a new quilt in progress, the layers basted together. Two weeks ago, for my daughter’s birthday, I sent a duvet cover I’d dyed, sewn, finished with shell buttons fastened with red thread. Time to pull out the winter blankets, the warm coats, though the sun is shining. How cold the water was as I swam my lengths, arms reaching forward, then back, my torso not quite straight. One of my last.
A lonely boat, a single line, my heart is full of home.
Winter clothes everywhere are urgently cut and measured
...Theresa Kishkan 