Magnetise our poor vertebrae
Poem
Seams
I was sewing a seam one day.
Just this way—
Flashing four silver stitches there
With thread, like this, fine as a hair,
And then four here, and there again,
When
The seam I sewed dropped out of sight…
I saw the sea come rustling in,
Big and grey, windy and bright…
Then my thread that was as thin
As hair, tangled up like smoke
And broke.
I threaded up my needle, then—
Four here, four there, and here again.
Hazel Hall
Listen
Read by Maite Jáuregui
Music
Hadouk Trio
Aerozen
Image
Mme Vuillard Sewing by the Window, rue Truffaut, Édouard Vuillard
Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art