Loose Ends

The spool tipped over,

a copper curl unwound,

thin and unruly across the workbench.

Thread caught on splintered wood,

a ragged path of forgotten stitches.

I dropped it once,

tangled in my own hands,

watching it spill out like regrets,

those things we leave undone,

things slipping through fingers,

as if waiting for a final knot.

Each loose strand a story

frayed and incomplete,

like the edges of a life

that won't quite hold together

no matter how tight the pull.