Thimble

She places the silver thimble on her thumb
Threads the needle
Winds the bobbin
Her face a crown of concentration
Totally absorbed in her old fashioned hobby
Her stitches are neat and tidy
All in a perfect row
My fingers shake too much to compare
Look, she says
All pretty and glowing
A new dress for a new day
Still the perfect blue
White crisp apron
She wears it well
I smile at her enthusiasm
Silently encourage her joy
Now I am dressed, what shall we do today
Watch the rain
Play with words
The usual rhythm of time spent wondering
The thimble makes a tiny ring as it slides off her finger onto the wooden table
All finished
The ground smells fresh
The rain quietly splashes the window
We study it quietly
Watching the world is a new hobby in itself.