Ruffles and Folds

Antiquated, perhaps –

petticoats and ruffles

don’t equate with modern ways.

Facebook is what she does with dog-eared pages in her spare time.

Internet conjures up tangled silk stockings

rather than monitors and keys

in her mind’s eye.

Her skills are those of a dying breed –

her brain remembers how to keep the fire stoked

to bake her weekly bread,

not who visited her last.

How much pickling salt to add to a quart,

how to blanch her beans to keep their summer’s crunch

trumps where her little bed lies

in these confusing interminable hallways.

But her smile still lights up a room.

Her quaint and dainty ways still

cling to her ruffles.

And her wizened frame

hides true beauty

in its folds…

2 comments on “Ruffles and Folds

  1. Caddo Veil says:

    Now this one’s interesting, a lot tucked into the folds, Melody–and you’ll probably laugh at me: I got to the line about blanching beans, and completely forgot about the poetry–so that’s what I didn’t do, blanch!! God bless you–love, Caddo

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