A small striped sleeve in her back, Navy and white, Needles carefully whipping in yarn From two sides. She reminds me of the wide-angled women Filled with calm I pretended I was related to In crowds.
We mourn the broken things, chair legs wrenched from their seats, chipped plates, the threadbare clothes. We work the magic of glue, drive the nails, mend the holes. We save what we can, melt small pi