Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Button

needles and spools
lamp black, steel green, silver grey...
I thread through the eye
while he watches the needle drift
in the button, out the cloth

and I'm wandering
in and out, in and out...
fragments of memory

was it just yesterday when
we were held hostage
by corporate dreams
bitten by the snake
of champagne wishes

and I'm wandering
in and out, in and out...
fragments of memory

was it my friend or his sister
who talked about the woman
scented with sweaty nylons,
the lie dismantled, delusional,
all maggots and worms

and I'm wandering
in and out, in and out...
fragments of memory

I couldn't see well,
but neither could he
their sealed tears, tribal fears
deceits, hanging over us
like spiked stalactites

and I'm wandering
in and out, in and out...
fragments of memory

was it my mother or his who said
I never fix his buttons?
I look at him, he grins
with how-nice-this-is eyes.
I smile in personalized silence

and I'm wandering
in and out, in and out...
fragments of memory

yet, not a dram of bitterness
as it's almost over
and the sun's setting
I tie the knot and pull the needle
fastening the button in place


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Prompt: It's almost over