After the flood before me, in the time of five hundred and fifty year lovers and new animals everyday (each day) there came into flowering a beautiful seamstress. Her hands' maneuvers flowed into garments of wonder which clothed history we have either read or has not been written. The glove between Arthur and the sword; Houdini's cape; Some glorious gown, you did not know, which became a vinegar rag to burn the throat of the messiah; Isadora Duncan's scarf; Salome's odd veils which doomed the Baptist; Every thread at the coronation of any queen; And this: she sewed this, which I have found through some miracle / through some lucky adventure of my open heart / through some unrepentant faith in a magic unknown for ages / thru seeking what can attire you better than words for the true hopefulness of unexpected winters in spring and summers that fall within reach. And here I bring it to you.
No comments:
Post a Comment