Sewinghttps://i1.wp.com/barrenmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/mane14.jpg?fit=1200%2C1600&ssl=112001600Shannon K. WinstonShannon K. Winstonhttps://barrenmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/ShannonKWinston.jpg
a blue button, a handkerchief, a strand of hair. when i was a child, my grandmother
would praise my sister’s discerning eyes as if her observations made her more
capable & worthy of love. so i set out to see more sharply, to take in all the things
of the word: the curve of a keyhole a doorframe, a water glass. all the shapes
that contain us. afraid of missing the slightest detail, i sewed my observations
into a piece of fabric i folded & stored under my pillow. this is what dreams are
made of: an ant, burnt grass, a plastic rose, a slit fish. weaving in & out, out & in,
my needle pierced & wove & bound letters against letters until words emerged against
the backdrop of my blue fabric. a G to an O to an N. later came the E. what I
hadn’t anticipated was the numbness, the small pricks in my fingers as letters formed &
deformed under my touch. was the way objects lost & regained their shape. G O N E.
was the pleasure & the pain i felt until i tethered what i loved until it couldn’t move.
Shannon K. Winston holds an M.F.A. in poetry from Warren Wilson College and a Ph.D. in Comparative Literature from the University of Michigan—Ann Arbor. Her poems have appeared in RHINO, Crab Creek Review, The Citron Review, The Los Angeles Review, Zone 3, and elsewhere. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and several times for the Best of the Net. She currently lives in Princeton, New Jersey, where she teaches in the Princeton Writing Program. Find her here: https://shannonkwinston.com/.