The golden opera behind
Unravels to thin light-fibers;
The first fingers of my right hand
Wet-twist the angel hair
To glass passing round the spindle.
Eye-focus two feet from the wheel
Centers between hands threading string
Taut singing.
Treadle foot sets fortune turning
The rich song of love and lover
That vibrates Mario between fingers
Putting our minds in tune
Between palms gently rocking.

The finished spool of song
Waits to be weft
Through Fate's harp loom,
Weaving homespun garments for life-
O Tosca, put one on
And sing.

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