Carolyn Timbie

With nothing to do, you gathered my most colorful shirts, and ripped them apart,
and stitched from their new uselessness a ghillie suit.
Now you flash around town, The Invisible Brightness, as if you can disguise your
boredom with rags.
I sit at home and copy recipes for sweet potato casserole into my notebook, and
wonder which of your favorite things I should burn in the oven.