Lakes in Wisconsin

All of this took place
on the shores of a lake
in Wisconsin,
when I entered
Larry’s house
and in the living room,
behind glass,
I caught sight of an old
Singer
sewing machine.
Memories immediately
burst into my head.
My grandmother also had
such a machine
and most likely
from long use
she had come to resemble
it completely.
There’s her shoulder –
the Singer’s machine bed,
there’s her white hair –
a belt with frayed walls,
there are her thin hands –
a presser foot and feed dog.
As deft as a shuttle,
with zigzag teeth,
with a spool-pin hump,
and a needle-bar mole
I had a bobbin-winder grandmother.
Then I suddenly thought –
You’re right, Larry, my friend,
The difference between present
and past
is expressed
in the relation between
living memory
and dead exhibit.