Threads would cling to them,
pants, purses, yokes of dresses,
as they walked or trotted
across the parking lot, released
by the four o’clock bell.

In the building at my back
I could feel the throb of second shift
working the fine strands
that, which was it?, held them up
or held them back from better lives.

Country tunes trailed them out the gate
while I waited for my ride, my evening.
The chainlink trolled those still moments
with its shadow net, and sparrows
gathered the string they let go.

That’s it, all that happened, then, there,
and again, here, now, clinging to another day
where I’m working them in.
What you notice becomes your life.

Bounty Everlasting: Poetry from 25 Years of Southern Cultures

This poem is featured in Bounty Everlasting. Read all 25 for free.

Michael Chitwood served as poetry editor of Southern Cultures for sixteen years. His most recent book, Search & Rescue, received the 2018 L. E. Phillabaum Prize from LSU Press.