Judith Ann Levison

Lemonade

I continue my embroidery
Of a butterfly upon lace-leaf greens
Simple enough to sew blind,
Then in nerves you ask
Will I 'bury' you and we laugh.

You tap your frosted glass,
Waiting for my years to entwine
Yours like small, yellow
Roses trapped through a fence.

But, aloneness is a treasure.
That can feign affection,
Unwrap the in and out weave
Of love's uneven stitchery,
Of eyes that see roses bouncing
Yes, no, in the breeze.

I sip the lemonade,
It is cruel I know,
That money plays a part
And roses turn to rot.
Embroidery has a fierce needle,
To calm any emotion down,
And I can do it blind.

{Poem by Judith Ann Levison}