Charles J. Ingerson


Within a mind
come the patches
used to embroider
the life of me.

In a quilt
of many pieces
found scattered
given in shadows.

Hand stitches
folding corners
one into another
blood and needles.

Patches of dreams
once found peaceful
in thunder and bolts
a cloth of memories.

Inside the colors
reds, blues, feelings
embracing a tomorrow
forgotten sometimes.

Wandering in heather
seeking to be one
yet when standing
I see patches many.

Even the whites
are stained in time
blending with dirt
crossing stitches.

Flowing in patches
on the surface
finding the storms
between the calms.

The clouds break
allowing sunlight
to distill my mind
pondering it all.

Where are the sunsets
or patches of red
white or blue
when I awoke today?