The Only Thing To Pray For Is Fire
The new age came. I invited it inside.
By the end of the week it had settled in the cellar.
One day it knocked on the sewing-room door and made as if to speak.
I waited, my mouth full of pins.
You seem to be making a quilt, it said.
I was only lengthening a pair of pants, but I said nothing.
You have been waiting for me to speak. Now that I am speaking you
believe a new age is here.
I put the pants into the basket.
When the quilt is finished I will get under it with you-together we
will bring about a new age! But first you will need to summon the
quilt-making fire . . .