A piece of cloth

The warp, the weaver laid, of common stuff.
The weft, of uncommon -
uncommon to the weaver.

The shuttle pulled secrets
through the cloth
with the grace of a woman carrying a bundle on her head.

The cloth was hawked by that woman or another
on an otherwise paradise beach
Sarong? Sarong? Sarong?

After a short life tossed on and off
the cloth was laid
away

its bright pattern
somewhat stained,
its secrets as kept
as the weaver.