9:30 A.M. Thursday

By Mildred V. Barthel

This is the day the sisters quilt.

I should go.

Here at home, my spooled thoughts

Are tight, threading me into a

Family of frustrations.

I need to

Piece together service with patience;

Pin down forgiveness;

Thimble the pricks of daily problems.

And as I share

The squared frames with my sisters,

I will find

Patterns of love

Stitched into straight lines

Curving toward heaven.

This the day my sisters quilt,

And I am going.