The Woven Crosses

I was resting on the rug... and noticed the side of the wicker basket. The little strips cross over each other, just like me? Soft shadows fell into each tiny gap under the floor lamp. I reached out a stubby arm to touch one little intersection. It felt rough, but steady. Looking closely, there are dozens of little X shapes all lined up... quiet and neat. I sat beside them for a while, just comparing our lines.