Masks
for my sister
Monday now, and your birthday.
We talked yesterday, bright joy
for me in an April snowstorm.
Your package arrived weeks ago,
you told me. Worried about lockdowns,
I mailed it a month early.
All over our small city,
those who venture out now
cover their faces with masks.
I used to think of masked balls,
or Halloween. Now, highway men
and worse, The Masque of the Red Death,
my early assiduous reading
of Poe, horror of plague,
woe, the colors of crow.
Yet joy is ascendant, leaps
like that spritely spotted cow
who jumps over the moon.
I’m here, you’re here.
We’ll talk again soon.
Meanwhile, for you,
who always meets me
where I am, never asks
that I put on a false face,
I am making a mask
of the softest cloth
to send to you, just
a bright, little scrap
of current ingenuity
and hope. Just in case.
Leslie Schultz
Recently, Tim asked me to make him a mask. We found instructions online, thanks to the tiny but incomparable shop on St. Paul’s Grand Avenue, Treadle Yard Goods. From their website, and inspired by their initiative to make masks for healthcare workers, as well as friends and family, we found a pattern at a site called Sew Good dedicated to making and donating quality handmade items. (I have included the link so the pattern is available to you.)
Usually, I sew by hand, but I knew that I couldn’t manuver a sliver-sharp quilting needle through denim in tiny stitches (too painful!). Some years ago, my friend, Corrine Heiberg, had given me her beloved Elna sewing machine. This past winter, by chance, I found a place to have it reconditioned, but given my timidity with machines and technology, I had not yet moved forward on my intention of becoming comfortable using it.
This past week, with Tim standing by for technical and moral support, I have now successfully wound bobbins, threaded top and bottom threads, and (yes! I see the metaphor!) adjusted tensions. I found some much-laundered cloth–a denim kitchen apron retired from service due to a frayed neck strap that I had always meant to replace, and some soft flannel from pajamas that had been put out to pasture. My only deficit in terms of materials was elastic. There, too, Corrine came to the rescue. I re-purposed the elastic from some Aeroflot eye shades she sent my way. This elastic is thin and soft and a discreet black, but it looks strong enough to hold.
Here is the prototype with a dashing model. Who? Perhaps Spiderman?
Encouraged by the first one, yesterday I made two more, one for Karla, one for me.
Effective? So they say, and I think they do signal reassuring safety to others.
Meanwhile, I am thinking, now that the trusty Elna and I have become friends, of other projects I might attempt this year. (Quilts! Quilts! Quilts!)
Wishing you a safe and lighthearted day, whatever you are doing on this Monday,
Leslie
You have a keen ear, Elizabeth. It is always good to hear from you!
I like the way you work with onomatopoeia — from the OH NO “of Poe, horror of plague, woe, the colors of crow” to whispered awww “of the softest cloth
to send to you, just…”
Beth, as usual, you nailed it. Thank you for the close attention to these daily poems. And I am so glad if there was the comfort, today, of a mirror for your own moods!
Leslie,
This poem today is far-reaching, isn’t it? Not only in subject under the title of “Masks” but in terms of moods. I , at least, felt that your mood wandered from cautiously celebratory to dark and melancholy to determined to hopeful. A perfect representation of my range of moods so far today on this rainy day in my part of the world. So this poem is just right from my view. I particularly liked:
I’m here, you’re here.
We’ll talk again soon.
Meanwhile, for you,
who always meets me
where I am, never asks
that I put on a false face,
A special relationship that allows for that meeting where each of is! Wonderful.