Poem #2

African mosaic

It came from

a book on African art,

this yearning

to visit the temple,

to stand barefoot on that cold marble,

to see the diamond mosaic,

to feel the space and antiquity


From the familiarity

of my workroom

I went there,

stood and cut cloth

to match the marble,

sat and stitched

one inch blocks of fabric,

pointed and neat cornered,

one to another

to echo the pattern

and still my heart.

Mariss Everitt

African mosaic
African Mosaic

6 thoughts on “Poem #2

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