PUPILS
by Skip Martin


I
watch
her pupil
as she leans
to thread the eye.
I learn circle
as the needle
bends in her eye,
curves round her pupil. I hang on and ride the slender silver metal around,
looping, looping:
grand lessons learned
in this, her liquid smallness,
her pupil. I learn
about two together —
together and colossal
on the head of a
pin.