Scott Simpson · Poetry

Old Quilt

A Hush Between Seasons · printed pages 35–36

The original line breaks, stanza spacing, and placement are preserved. Long lines scroll horizontally.

Source page 35

OLD QUILT

The house cools early.

Even the floorboards

seem to pull away.

Wind finds

the loose seams.

But the quilt—

threadbare,

smelling of cedar and sleep—

holds the shape

of every shoulder

that ever asked

to be held.

Its stitches,

tugged by decades,

still remember

how to give

without breaking.

The colors dim,

but not without grace.

They’ve softened

like a voice

spoken through steam

in the chill

of morning.

Source page 36

You don’t wash

what’s survived

this long.

You fold it,

carry it

through whatever winter

you’re in—

wrap it around

what you still love

enough

to keep warm.

SCOTT SIMPSON

Other collection versions