Repaired

It hurt a bit, the little scratch
When a vagrant nail scraped
With nonchalant smugness;
What pained more, was the yarn
Pulled out from a cozy space
It stared at me, pleading repair
It’s world ready to unravel
With a stitch now haywire

I held the woolen memory
Lovingly in my warm hand
Still smelling of mothballs
Just subdued by gentle wash;
Grabbed a frigid crochet hook
Delicately weaved in the strand
Tied a neat knot, pulled it tight
Tucked it all away, out of sight

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