First, an imagining of words combined
From single letter threads of midnight blue
Woven across a warp and weft of lines
Graph paper squares that frame a pattern view
Until revisited another day
The poem-weaver casts a critic eye,
Which threads to stay and which to pull away,
A fabric in revision endlessly
As Ikarios’ daughter at her loom,
Weaving and unweaving its tapestry,
Dreaming delayed perfection might see home
Her wanderer, or, if deception be
Enough of artistry, to veil her guile
To keep completion incomplete a while.

Penwood Review, 2011