The Sewing Circle

The Sewing Circle
by Leslie Noyes

Friends of a feather
Gathered closely together
Nimble fingers poised

A work in progress
Stitches in red, white, and blue
Most, perfectly spaced

“Janis, there’s a hitch
In the shape of your last stitch.”

“No, that clump is trump.”


flawless illusion
reality intervenes
eroded facade

behind the bright mask
uncovered with a flourish
truth cloaked alibis

one fine victory
a fallacious feast for eyes
gives what isn’t seen

The word “facade” is another I ploddingly mispronounced for many years. Until I was 16 or so I thought it was /fu•kāde/. I’ll tackle “docile” next.

Peace, people!