The night expands,
a ramie sweater,
knit from a giving
material. And awake,
I count bolls in lieu
of sheep, and do
math when I should
sleep. Thus deprived,
a lad such as I can
make much of little,
make grease of spittle,
make great burdens small as I whittle
away the wee hours,
gathering cotton,
not gathering wool.
Life in Portofino 
Cute poem, though clearly not an etheree. May I suggest it might have been better shared in Open Link Night?
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Rosemary’s reply left me confused, so I went to the Links for the Etheree and this poem was written after that.Your Etheree was Sea-Breeze Front, which I loved! As I recall, I saw this yesterday on Poetic Asides for the “Make _____” prompt. Ah, how the technology turns us around 🙂
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Sorry I missed your comment. I’ve got several things going on… here and elsewhere, so there’s no telling when I’m doing the wrong thing at the wrong time. I might do just that sometime. Tonight I think I’ll share something new and untried. I’m glad you liked my poem, ‘though!
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The Ramie Sweater image is so perfect! I had one of those and it just kept getting longer and longer – like a sleepless night. Fabulous metaphor, my friend!
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It was a metaphor suggested by something I heard someone say a few years ago – a lot like what you said. They had to wash it to bring it back to size. Hmmm, maybe another metaphor!
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