Poem by Jim Mann

Featuring the artwork of David W. Reed III

The Blanket

As I past through the room today

I saw my blanket out of the corner of my eye

It was the same blanket that has laid there for years

And recants memories tucked deep within my mind.

Yes, a blanket is just a blanket, they come in many sizes and shapes

Many colors and textures, for many ages

But my blanket is special, it is the story of so much of my life

A photo album of colors to remember.

Worn edges signal years of cradling me

Keeping me warm and safe.

Colors that bring back forgotten moments lost in time

Woven together as if to hold the pieces safe

In sky blues the morning light awakens me

Shade of green bring back the spring days under an oak tree

Oranges a fall sunset with the hint of winter in the air

All surround a black field of nighttime dreams

Yes, a blanket is a blanket

But mine is the keeper of time the history of my life

It is the thing I reach for on winter nights or what hold me tight in sadness

My blanket is my escape into my world of dreams and memories.

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