← v20n1, Spring 2021
Poetry · Volume 20, Number 1

“Sewing Bird” [transcription, 2007 manuscript] by Claudia Emerson

Sewing Bird [transcription, 2007 manuscript]

No bigger than the span of any woman’s

hand, this one was cast in ornate brass,

even the thumb key, designed to clamp the bird

to the table’s edge, decorative, vine-chased.

A small velvet cushion for needles

and pins wears like a prissy saddle,

fast the cotton, wool, or muslin—rarer

lace—the stuff of the nest its gag: trousers,

aprons, christening gown—a wedding dress’s

seams felled so perfectly the inside was

as flawless as the out. Where the syrinx

nestled, warm song-chamber inside the body

of any living bird that might have sung

outside the window, spring steel still recalls

the stricture of its hidden coil, a singular

memory. Its strength in such closure,

the mouth shut to the finished task—the bird’s

only lyric measured and cut to be worn,

torn, mended—and handed down—soundless

cloth the swaddling of yet another’s voice.