Multicoloured cross-stitch

Etched into the landscape

Forming long patchwork columns

That shimmer in the light

When you’re inside of colour

It’s hard to see the spectacle

Or understand the patterns

That a single dot can trace

The chore of movement

Overwhelms the senses

That grows inside the sadness of loss

As warm faces diminish in dark miles

Still, every day,

The pattern continues,

Moving one way as the sun rises

Moving the other as it sets