The Rapture of Canaan
By Sheri Reynolds
Published in 1995
“I’ve spent a lot of time weaving, but you’d never know it from my hands.
“With threads, hair, and twisted fabric, I weave in fragments of myself, bits of other people. I weave in lies, and I weave in love, and in the end, it’s hard to know if one keeps me warmer than the other.
“And when I’m done, I lift the rug from the loom and study it in my fingers. When I back away five feet, it’s bluer or more knotted than I’d remembered. And from twenty feet, it grins at me when all along, I’d thought it pouty. I ask myself, `Is that my rug?’ But I like anything I make, the rug is never mine. I tell my eyes not to see so much at one time. I flip it over, and from the back, it weeps like someone lost.”
Suggested by Barbara Stover, Danville
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