Some might say that the three sisters
weaving the threads of our existence
measuring out our tribulations
and cutting us loose to god knows where
have taken to knitting,
but I believe that this has been the year of pieces--
discarded and colorful like a Pompeiian mosaic.
dusty and thrilling, ancient and newfound
we have been shattered and glued and arranged
and it is not the stars, but ourselves that have been
lined up so that we can make sense
of something in the lot we have.