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 . . .