The Dress Maker’s Daughter
by Lind Grant-Oyeye
Her hands hold spindles of memory
thread as thick as a bungee jumper’s cord,
on patches of ripped jeans.
She speaks in a voice, old like yesterday:
“Hem those rough edges with your
silky hands and feel the smoothness
of what is left on the outside.”
“Let decorative buttons cover
each hole, like sand covers the dead. ”
How she speaks as one who has fixed weak sheet
unto weak sheet, with the strength of old pins.
But I speak as one, who knows—
* * * * *
Lind Grant-Oyeye is an award winning poet of Nigerian descent. She has work published in literary magazines and anthologies worldwide.