My grandmother worked for Bonwit Teller’s; we grew up receiving
gifts wrapped in thick shiny paper sprigged with violets, satin ribbons,
didn’t know they were samples, or bonus gifts from cosmetics
after a promotion was over, or even from Filene’s Bargain Basement,
resurrected in bright new wrap. She altered Better Dresses, fitted out
brides, rode the “T” into work well into her eighties. She taught me how to sew,
made me rip out mistakes, fix crooked seams, taught me everything
I needed about editing and revision: if something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well.
Submission, rejection, submission, rejection, pacienza, pacienza.
One day, a package will come, what you’ve been waiting for,
lavender blossoms on a field of snow.