still life in poetry

I saw a statue of a porcupine
knitting with two of its barbs
using two parts of its deterrence
to bring wool yarn together
into something useful
into a sweater or a scarf
or something

there probably was no
greater message to it
it probably was just
a clever cute idea
but inside the clever
I saw
the whole life of an artist

this is who we are
taking the shards
we've surrounded ourselves with
because we're sick of being hurt
and instead ripping them out
rending our own flesh
vacating our defenses
that we might do with less
make something beautiful with them
at least try
to provide comfort
with the pieces of our loss
flip the script
generate some goodness
with that toss

pull out our own needles
make something that can heal instead
get outside of our own heads
knitting a metaphoric sweater
to make the world a little better
maybe

I saw a statue of a porcupine
and in its face
I saw mine
or at least that's what I'm trying
at least I'm trying