Pillow Lace – by Charmaine Candappa
Memories slice the afternoon stillness
As I touch the whiteness of the lace, edged on my pillow
Knowing that hands moved swiftly
On the ageless wooden instruments
Crisscrossing, overlapping, tightening .
Women in deep concentration
Their knarled fingers weaving
The milky white strands of thread
Into delicate and intricate designs,
A trellis of petaled flowers and leaves
Knitted vigorously
Those yards and yards of pillow lace.
( Galle Srilanka )
