The speaker imagines her mind as an old, threadbare bedcover. Her familiar ways of thinking no longer protect her from fear or loneliness. So she decides to gather borrowed ideas—other people’s thoughts—and stitch them together like a patchwork quilt. She knows this new mental covering won’t be as fine as the one the years have worn away, but it’s better than lying exposed to the grey wind whining through four walls or the cold, metallic “rain” of stars on the ceiling. The poem creates a quiet, fragile mood: part despair at a worn-down inner life, part stubborn resolve to make something warm and useful from scraps. It’s about the need to renew your mind when your old ways of coping have become too ragged to keep out the dark.
Counterpanes — Summary
I will make myself new thought; My own is worn and old. And old counterpanes will not Keep out the wind and cold.
From borrowed thought I will choose Pieces, and, row on row, Patch a quilt of many hues Like the quilts of long ago.
It cannot be so fine As what the years have thinned. But I dread the smothered whine Of four grey walls' grey wind.
I will patch me a counterpane. For mine is worn to scars. And I fear the iron rain Of a ceiling's splashing stars.