A thread at the hem
pulled by fretting fingers out of carelessness
offered little resistance
as it reversed the zigzag
separating what was once unified
the pants are not ruined
no need for tossing them aside
a temporary repair—
tape running around the edge
gives a false sense of completeness
the illusion of security
buying only a little time
for tape can’t get wet
or resist heat
someone must run a new thread
through the nearly invisible eye of the needle
a steady hand and mind
focused upon stitching, repairing
mending what’s been rent
Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
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