Mother dropped her spinning needle
It fell right on its head, the other children
Heard it fall and rushed off straight to bed,
I stood in doorways darkness and watched
Her from behind, as she stitched the word
Across her heart, the pain it left her blind
Father told us she was sleeping, for years
And years to come, we never asked about
It or what was yet to come, and in the night
We heard her walk and creak across the floor
But father told us not to worry, she wasn’t here
No more
He finally put her in her box, a kitten
I heard him say, safe and warm and free from
Danger, but mind you, far away, the man
who came to get her, was tall and grey and
Old, he left without the box, at least
That’s what we’re told
Now I have the spinning needle, I took it
From where it lay, and once I dropped it
On the floor, father went away, I keep it
In a locket, one around my throat, and
When it falls I see that man in his long black cloak