They Drank Tea in Glass Cups
the roots go deep, back beyond
my mother's foot pedal sewing
machine, beyond the crochet squares
my grandmother made into tablecloths,
back to a tailor in Poland who sewed
pieces of cloth into suits, back
to where the skein of thread rolls
out and the beginning is lost
somewhere in a shtetl in Poland--
my grandmother began another
skein when she saved string
in the bag with her crocheted squares
my mother's foot pedal sewing
machine, beyond the crochet squares
my grandmother made into tablecloths,
back to a tailor in Poland who sewed
pieces of cloth into suits, back
to where the skein of thread rolls
out and the beginning is lost
somewhere in a shtetl in Poland--
my grandmother began another
skein when she saved string
in the bag with her crocheted squares
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