A stitch in time saves gluestick
and puts tiny bits of scraps to use,
makes crazy quilted afternoons listening to Miles Davis.
Miles of white thread amble along
blocks of patchworked landscape,
and tango step across a late afternoon
just as long shadows drape themselves upon an unmade bed.
A stitch in time saves a week that might have gone to ruin
and empty hands, tiny bits of painted paper might have been trashed,
might not have been hummed into something like a story
you told yourself long ago on a spoiled day.
