Pockets January 30, 2020
Source: pexels.com

I’ve lived my life in pockets

Lined with fur,

With flowers,

With velvet, lace, leather, or silk

All hidden away from the world

All safe and warm and known


There are faces in those pockets

Clear voices that ring like bells

Tears in the eyes of characters and names and places

I know far better than my own

All safe in these pockets

These worlds that are my home


There are desires, in these pockets

Hidden wonders illuminating

Lighting ways to yearning for touch and sound and caress

Companionship and understanding

Unflinching friendship and honest pain

All found in these pockets

These pockets that sometimes fray


They are worn, these pockets

And some have torn to shreds

From plunging deep inside

Some fall from use, outgrown or grown cold

Though never far from heart, or home


There are pockets in these pockets

Hidden linings in the strong, stitched tread

That would never have been found

Had the old seam not seized and breathed and gave way

Warm and loving in thread


They cover me in patchwork tatters,

Wrapping ’round me like a coat

These pockets, they’re family

They’re freeing

They’re comforting

They’re home



Image source: https://www.pexels.com/photo/background-blur-bokeh-bright-220067/

About Jennifer Riley
Jennifer Riley is our co-leader. She’s an emotional writer, engulfing people in her tidal wave of life experiences and interpretations. She’s a bad Catholic, a good sinner, and a pernicious writer who tries to find who she is to herself and to God through her words. You can find her writer page at www.facebook.com/spectersink You can read more about the author here.

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