The Rainbow Blankie

I love my rainbow blankie–

 

it wasn’t mine, originally,

but that didn’t matter:

 

Momma finished it for me,

and now I am the owner

of her rainbow blankie.

 

It’s a blankie like no other–

rainbow wool and fleece

and bits of handmade memories:

 

a scarf, a sock, a sweater sleeve,

remnants of nights

spent by Momma’s knee

as she worked magic on

a blankie just for me

(unknowingly).

 

It smells like her, and now like me,

where I revel in rainbow dreams

and whiskered tuna reveries

where I chase mice and birds

across imaginary fields and streams.

 

I love my rainbow fleece,

my rainbow dreams,

the blankie Momma made just for me.

 

All for me, just for me.