By Mechelle Marie Gilford
The needle gleams, a silver sliver bright,
Threading the fabric of a walking dream,
With every stitch, I weave the fading light,
And capture visions, fleeting as they seem.
The cloth, a canvas for the mind’s design,
Where threads of memory intertwine with hope,
A tapestry of thoughts, in shifting line,
Where zig-zag visions, like a migraine’s splinter,
With backstitch bold, I bind the fading scene,
Chain stitch secures where waking worlds convene,
French knots like stars, a swirling nebula’s gleam,
And blanket stitch to mend where edges burn.
The fraying edges of a fading dream,
With every stitch, a fragment finds its thread,
A stitched-up dreamscape, woven in my head.
Gilford, Mechelle Marie. “Stitching the Ephemeral.” Re:Visions, no. 22, 2025, University of Notre Dame.