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"The Seamstress"Dia de los Muertos

By Jim PowellPosted Tuesday, Jan. 4, 2005, at 8:42 AM ET

Listen to Jim Powell reading this poem.

Knelt in the middle of the kitchen floor at midnight
there's only so much you can do to mend the skeleton
spread-eagled on the linoleum
painted in faded dayglo
on a black leotard:

the fabric stretches over time, the fibers strain
and give and never spring back all the way. Needle and thread
stitch up the raveled sleeve, a sponge
blots fresh florescence
onto spine and ribcage

but light leaks through the brittle weave, the needle's eye
grows dimmer, the grasp less sure, and joints ache on the cold floor
down again on hands and knees
to see the kindergartners
dance in the bones of the ancestors.

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Jim Powell was the Sherry Poet at the University of Chicago in fall 2005. The January 2007 issue of Poesia (Milan) includes 15 translations of his work by Carlo Anceschi. He lives in Berkeley, Calif.

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To submit poetry to Slate, send up to five poems and a self-addressed, stamped envelope to: Robert Pinsky, Slate Magazine, Boston University, 236 Bay State Road, Boston, MA, 02215.

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