As I stroll

      the streets

of New York

In a cashmere sweater    and 

straight leg jeans,

      I notice something.

Playing with my cats

in the morning.

      A loose string tugged 

out of my sweater.

I Didn't Think Much About It.

What's a little crack in a vase?

A scab on a knee?

A hole in a sweater?

   Turns out maybe

I should have paid attention.

          fixed it

Before the crack grew

Before the scab reopened

Before the hole unwound

  Unwound

            Unwound

I covered the 

      hole

 with the 

strap

     of my bag

  But just because they

Can't see it

Doesn't mean it isn't there.