language loom
alone together so long
we’ve nearly forgotten
how others sound
how to weave an exchange
with another willing soul
until the tones hold more than
simple senseless waves
slowly we remember
to listen and ask until
there’s a tough cupped palm heart
sturdy enough to hold tears
threaded together
one under-over-under dip
of our verbal dance at a time
Mom says:
Terrific analogy re weaving a conversation.