Mothers Mending
After the tussle—or would you call it
a clash?—we stitch the torn uniforms
you men bring home.
Little needle, glint and glide …
After the cut—or would you call it
a gash?—we stitch the torn skin
you men bring in.
Little needle, glint and glide.
Lead this thread to heal and hide …
After the war—or should we call it
murder—we stitch the shrouds
you men wear now.
Little needle, glint and glide.
Lead this thread to heal and hide.
Never ask us to explain
why you left us here in pain.
by Kim Stafford
from Rattle Magazine