Elegy For A Broken Machine (2015) - Plot & Excerpts
Elegy for a Broken Machine Work-Clothes Quilt With nothing but time and the light of the Singer, and no one to come now forever and rattle the bell at the backdoor and scatter black mud on the stoop, and make that small moan as he heaves off his boots— with no one to fill the big kettle and set it, and fall asleep talking to the back of her neck as the treadle belt hums— with nobody, nowhere in need of such things, she unbuckles his belt for the last time and cuts up his pant legs and rips out the double-stitched seams, making patches of plackets and oil-stained pockets, of kerchiefs, and collars, and sleeves, her thin fingers setting the bobbin and clamping the foot until she’s joined every scrap she can salvage, no matter how brown with his sweat, or stiff with his blisters, or blooming his roses of pine sap, and gear grease, and blood— until, as the wedding clock chimes and his buried bones freeze, as frost gleams at sunrise in the window, she stands by the bed and breathes his last scent, then wraps herself in it and sleeps.
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