Houndstooth follows a speaker wandering through a fabric and craft shop, then hurrying home to sew. The poem begins with "in hindsight," so the whole scene feels remembered, and the list of patterns and materials (paisley, burlap, lacework, bamboo, wool, alpaca) reads like running a hand along the shelves. The heavy alliteration, with its "fleeting feasts for famished eyes," makes the words themselves feel textured and a little greedy, matching the speaker's hunger for creative ideas.
The mood shifts near the end. A tired cashier at the counter breaks the daydream briefly, but the speaker slips past her, "abrupt," toward the quiet pleasure of handicrafts. The sewing machine, pins, loom and wheel are named almost like old friends. The last line, "the workshop where my memory's quilts are sewn," suggests that making things and remembering are the same act for this speaker. The tone is warm, nostalgic and cozy, with a touch of impatience to get back to work.