You can weave rainbows
into your work
its beauty
and yours
will shine as reflections
of each other
You can weave quetzals
and flowers
in the tradition of your grandmother
but with your own flair
hidden there
in that dark and crowded stall
hung so thickly
with tapestries
in impossibly bright colors
we entered to look
and you appeared shyly
third person we’d seen
emerge from the shadow
You said, “You like? This my work.”
You and your weaving
lit up that place
so now we have
one of your rainbows
and, reflected, the memory
of your charming smile.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 3, 2012