Originally published in LLL of Western Pennsylvania’s PennsyLLL Points West, Spring 2000
I have a basket in the corner:
Ripped jeans and sweaters,
Shirts needing buttons,
Shorts wanting seams,
Costumes needing trim.
Patches and spools,
Thimbles and thread.
Colorful and rumpled
Overflowing
Jumbled and soft;
I can reach in for a job
Of mending and fixing
In spare mothering moments.
But now I’m a job needing repair:
A miscarriage at six weeks.
I wish I could crawl into that basket
Where someone could pick me up
And hold me close with a thimble,
Stitching my frayed seams
Patching my broken heart.
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