In the fabric of our world,

in the tapestry of cultures,

there are vast patches of polyester.

nylon spandex spreads like cancer,

stretches and reveals too much.

Synthetics threaten the weft.

There are cheezy places where

cheap fibers have worn thin,

and greed has eaten

holes like moth larvae,

weakening the interweave

of forest, prairie, sea.

There are angry knots of war –

…oh, lets not even explore

that metaphor…

But some spans of silk

still grace the tapestry,

and natural colors

remain in enclaves.

Linen, wool, and sisal

cling to their ancient places.

There also remain veins

of earthy, durable hemp,

strong and rarely rent,

resilient, raw and lovely:

tight-knit, homespun,

the lives that intertwine

within this quilted valley.


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