I've been trying to imagine Penelope's tapestry for years

I've been trying to imagine Penelope's tapestry for years

wondering what she was weaving only to disassemble

if it was the same or different each time

if the threads became frayed and worn

after years on the loom.

I wonder if it will take me as many years to imagine

as it took her to finish.

What scene is depicted, always thinking in images,

a friend suggested it is geometric, a self-same pattern,

a fractal, to look the same at any size,

an elegant description that explains the suitors ignorance

coming from a mathematician

but, I think those men didn't notice because they didn't care

and that she worked with her form in mind,

using the chance to rub specks of thread together

until she wasn't forced to draw her image in lines

but was free, with only points to guide her hands, 

to create.

I doubt it ever was really meant

to be a burial shroud, it is much too large

and the material is thick and coarse,

made from canvas instead of silk,

that she knew exactly how she wanted it seen --

billowing above the deck, attached to a seasoned mast,

shimmering along with the seas and boundless skies.