A seamstress watches her needle sliding in and out and her fingers moving back and forth, and she asks them, half-teasingly, whether they know what they are doing. She could explain: they are sewing fine linen into a pleated cuff for a bishop. She imagines the bishop’s white hand looking even fairer and being lifted in better prayer because of this careful work. There is quiet pride and tenderness in that thought. Yet she still wonders whether the needle and fingers would understand their purpose even if she told them. The poem’s repetition echoes the rhythm of stitching, and its mood is calm, curious, and gently philosophical. It asks how much the small, repeated motions of labor know about the meaning humans give them.
Puzzled Stitches — Summary
Needle, running in and out, In and out, in and out. Do you know what you're about, In and out, in and out?
Fingers, going to and fro, To and fro, to and fro. Do you know the path you go. To and fro, to and fro?
I might tell you why you're taking Such good stitches: You are making Out of linen, fine as breaking Ocean-spray upon a bluff, Pleating for a Bishop's cuff!
I might make you understand That a Bishop's white, white hand, Because of you, will be more fair, Will be raised in better prayer.
Even then would you know Why you're going to and fro? Would you doubt what you're about, Running in and running out?