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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.
This poem is in the public domain.
About This Poem
“Heavy Threads” was published in Hall’s book Curtains (John Lane Company, 1921).
Hazel Hall was born in Saint Paul, Minnesota, in 1886. Her books include Walkers (Dodd, Mead, and Company, 1923) and Cry of Time (E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc., 1928). Hall died in Portland, Oregon, in 1924.
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Poem-a-Day
Launched during National Poetry Month in 2006, Poem-a-Day features new and previously unpublished poems by contemporary poets on weekdays and classic poems on weekends.
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