by Jackie Craven
All in by Jackie Craven
by Jackie Craven
At the rear of the drawer,
an argyle without its mate
nuzzles something turquoise,
fuchsia and polyester,
which it wouldn't ordinarily do
but the brightly-striped creature
also lost her mate
and now they're a mismatched couple
smooching in a booth
at an all-night café.
She leans into his woolen comfort
and traces careful stitches—
How precisely they intersect the diamonds!
How dependably the diamonds repeat,
the pattern moving from wine to stone
to wine again, all the way to heel and toe,
which are gray and reassuring
and impossible to endure.
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