Patterns (Poetry)

The day is a dropped stitch
undoing itself -
a hole in a tight-knit life
unravelling, faster, faster...

and nothing fits -
what used to slot,
fall into place,
doesn't match
or mix
and colours clash,
run, slap-dash,
random now, illogical

patterns change,
shapes distort,
edges fail to touch
and gaps in the fabric yawn
where the neat and reliably regular
have mutinied
revolution rules
and chaos is the new routine -

reality has flaws
too big to mend.