clothed

once upon a pile of rags

torn, soiled and bagged

arose a seam holding strong

before all thread gone

in a wave of wind

dead dyes faded dim

off the toiled weave

to sew in naked dreams

hemmed in faux lines

meld by needle eyes

tattered and discarded

worn hope upon a sleeve

born by a gin long past

a search for familiar patterns

of chalk, folds and pins

stripes, florals, polka dots