Carpet Talking to the Mother’s Feet
She carries the baby for months over the carpeted world. Even when the child is sleeping, the carpet is saying shhh. The carpet is always saying shhh to the mother’s feet, the soles of which are spreading wider as she walks, to make her body a steadier plinth for trouble and devotion. Knotted floor made of boiled wool, always asking that the walks be peace walks, always urging us to sleep. But we are grown now, and can barely hear you. Maybe you were made by our mothers.
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