I do not sew and probably never will...
except for the button onto my favorite coat,
and yet, I am faced with the prospect of a sewing room─
this must be the only way to convert a room
left vacant
yet bursting with sweet memories,
where you sleep
dreaming of your baby who has grown,
left the nest to pursue her magnificent dreams.
I oft wonder about these sewing rooms,
reconstructed in the empty nests of homes;
its purpose is not stitching,
but to knit together the tapestry of memories
into the yearning heart of a mother
whose work is done and beautifully sewn.
