Fanny Howe
Some people do embroidery
With plastic and metal,
The threads and red
Pin cushion, the snow
Falling like pepper
On the tar outside.
The letters in color
That have messages
Stuck to each other.
The hands on Friday afternoons
Listening to hip-hop
With their needles busy.
My son the cobbler
Likes his shop shut but must
Open it for business
On the dot of the satellite.
Those who unroll great sheets
Of paper for the streak of a razor
always begin with a blur.
Then decades later separated by yards
Of air they pick up the job again.
What is a shoelace to a boot?
The same as a buckle is to a belt.
Each lost in guessing
Each hovering over a split
Before another needle
Digs a hole in it.
This is eternal work
In the eyes of the universe.
About Fanny Howe:
Her most recent collection of poetry is Second Childhood from Graywolf Press. She was a Finalist for the National Book Award in 2014 for that book and for the International Man Booker Award, 2015, for her fiction. Her newest book, The Needle’s Eye, was published by Graywolf in November 2016. She taught at MIT and UCSD where she is Professor Emerita, and lives in New England.
