bring it to me

the needle,
taking thread through
its thin
hole, wet at the end
by her lips,
hardly stiff,
but manageable
as she guides it through
the opened eye
of steel.
what needs to be sewn?
a sleeve,
a seam, a cuff
undone. a dress.
how she could sit
for hours
and take our clothes
one piece
at a time
and sew, saying almost
done,
now there.