from a series of coiled basket forms
by Anna S. King, textile artist

Take bog myrtle
    that unprepossessing marshland shrub
	    with a beautiful aroma when crushed
Put under the brow bands of childhood ponies
    to keep the flies away and now a reminder
	    of weekends on the west coast of Scotland
Bunches brought back to work with
    aware of the option of holding something back
	    when lost in the hypnotic rhythm of weaving
		    
               ***
					   
I push the energy of contemplation from mind into fingers
to this concentration of textures    centrifugally formed:
pine needles woven with waxed cotton;
sprigs of bog myrtle   stand encircling the form
their tips rising above the central hollow of the basket--
that space
    containing   and    concealing
    or offering you a place to release
        your disturbingly secretive
        self
        to yourself