Underneath The Stars

Underneath the stars an old woman knits
She has passed beyond need or mourning
She neither frowns nor smiles, nor asks why?

She is re-working our fate. She is re-making history
She is patterning our future. She is embroidering
Our destiny. We shall hear her across the river
We wear every garment she threads

Each evening we wash them. And by night
Hang them out. They dry under the stars
Swathed in her image, we lie naked till morning