Last night when my work was done, And my estranged hands Were becoming mutually interested In such forgotten things as pulses, I looked out of a window Into a glittering night sky. And instantly I began to feather-stitch a ring around the moon.
In Hazel Hall’s “Habit,” a woman has just finished her work, probably sewing, and notices her hands as if they don’t quite belong to her. They feel estranged, slowly rediscovering ordinary life through her pulse. When she looks out at the bright night sky, she doesn’t simply admire it.
Leer el resumen completo