The speaker remembers cross-stitching two macaws onto a black satin bag long ago. Their green tails, blue wings, yellow breasts, and sharply turned heads are all fixed in thread, alert and listening. In quiet moments, the memory catches her attention and pulls it back, the way fabric gathers along a gathering thread. She is amazed at the futile energy that keeps the birds alert to the last stitch, listening into their black satin night. The black satin acts like a night sky, so the birds seem to be listening into darkness. There is something tender and faintly eerie in that image—a handmade object holding a permanent state of attention. The sewing detail also matters because it shows the care and patience that went into making them. The speaker seems to feel both wonder and a little unease, as if the stitched birds are forever waiting for a sound that will never come.
The Listening Macaws — Summary
Many sewing days ago I cross-stitched on a black satin bag Two listening macaws. They were perched on a stiff branch With every stitch of their green tails, Their blue wings, yellow breasts and sharply turned heads, Alert and listening.
Now sometimes on the edge of relaxation My thought is caught back. Like gathers along a gathering thread. To the listening macaws; And I am amazed at the futile energy That has kept them, Alert to the last stitch. Listening into their black satin night.