I have a box of buttons
My mother left to me
You say, what good are buttons?
They are memories you see
One is off an old divan
Green fabric like the couch
I watched our first TV from it
I liked it very much.
An orange one covered with soft yarn
From a sweater knit with love
My mother made all of my clothes
Each garment snug as a glove.
A rhinestone button shines for me
It graced a coat so grand
A giant purple one stands out bold
Upon a shirt-dress it did stand
One centered on a round satin pleated pillow
I tossed above my head and dreamed
Of boys and dolls and parties fine
And all the while I schemed.
Jackets, dresses, pants and shirts
Pillows, purses, even totes
Each an object she once held
Sewn with love on those she dotes.
Round ones, wood ones, large and small
Graced my world since I was born
Each memory locked within each orb
Until from fabric they were torn.
Some make quilts from pieces of cloth
Others paste pictures in books to store
Their memories close, to look upon
My buttons shape my world of lore.