Heavy Threads
Hazel Hall
When the dawn unfolds like a bolt of ribbon
Thrown through my window,
I know that hours of light
Are about to thrust themselves into me
Like omnivorous needles into listless cloth,
Threaded with the heavy colours of the sun.
They seem altogether too eager,
To embroider this thing of mine,
My Day,
Into the strict patterns of an altar cloth;
Or at least to stitch it into a useful garment.
But I know they will do nothing of the kind.
They will prick away,
And when they are through with it
It will look like the patch quilt my grandmother made
When she was learning to sew.
About this poem
“Heavy Threads” was published in Hazel Hall’s book “Curtains” (John Lane Company, 1921).
About Hazel Hall
Hazel Hall was born in St. Paul, Minn., in 1886. Her books include “Walkers” (Dodd, Mead, & Co., 1923) and “Cry of Time” (E. P. Dutton & Co., 1928). Hall died in Portland, Ore., in 1924.
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This poem is in the public domain. Distributed by King Features Syndicate.
