Weaver
Worlds edge She sits
weaving at her great loom
making the days adjusting
loom weights
with tender care
pushing down
errant threads
tempering, smoothing
culling.
As weft goes around warp
children play
orbitally running
sibling planetesimals
Goddess, mother
Star
in gravity well
tending to all things.
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
This poem was published in Issue 8 of Marble Poetry
The Cheesesellers Wife 