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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