THE SEAMSTRESS

(eulogy for Gloria Alisa Adams)

There are threads of your wisdom

woven into our poetry, making the fabric

stronger than corduroy

In a house you ran like a well-oiled

-           sewing machine

You stitched ripped jeans, torn skin 

threaded hope thru the eye of a needle

And it was on your ironing board

we learned how to keep on pressing

until the rough times got smooth

Who but you could have taken

a patchwork of little ragged souls

and turned us into a colorful family quilt 

Who but you could have fashioned us

into models of character dignified,

while other styles trending came and went

It was you mama, it was you grandma,

it was you sister, auntie, friend. It was you

the seamstress

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