This entry is part 66 of 73 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Winter 2011-12


When I was a child did you bend back my little toes
and my big toes, then wrap them in a linen bandage
for years?
asks my second daughter, frustrated
that there are fewer grown up styles for size 5 feet.


A signature may consist of a folio or an octavo.
Sewing through the fold makes a nice journal or book—
you have to take care that the binding tape is nicely
aligned on both sides of sewing, on the spine.


A friend chafes at wearing his wedding band in
public; or not at all. I think I’ve only seen it once
or twice: a plain ring with a raised rim in yellow
gold. He and his wife have arguments about that.


The gossip of goldfinches makes a single bright thread
in the day. For a change, how nice it is to have warmth
without shadows, quiet talk, no rancor, no regret. I like
that the mull is mesh material glued to the signature set.


Here is the bone that burnishes smooth, that lays the papers down
with their marbled leaves. Did you know the word volume comes from
volvere, which is related to scroll, thin sheet of parchment wound
like a blind about its staff? As desire returns to its beginnings.


In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Series Navigation← Dear unseen one,Saturday Afternoon at the Y →

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