Dear Tender

From cloth to needled hand.

silhouette of mountains during dawn

Stitch me a shield
against the moment
of my erasure,
thread a horse
to carry me over
the next pass.

My legs are tired
and I have lost
the thread.


Inspired by the work of ZoĆ« Buckman, whose solo exhibition, Tended, is now in New York.

Author: Stacey C. Johnson

I keep watch and listen, mostly in dark places.

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