Button, I lost a button – you said.
In a few days another one was gone,
and another after that.
What’s wrong with these buttons?
You wait patiently for me to find replacements.
Finally, I sit with my needle and thread,
cut all the rest of them off,
and sew the new, green ones to match the coat,
and your eyes.
I am proud of your look and of my craft.
I see you in the corner of my eye in the morning
driving to work in your winter coat, buttoned up.
You were strong, but not against a truck in the fog.
They brought you back, already bathed and changed.
Nicely folded in a plastic bag, was your winter coat
with new, shiny buttons.
I wondered if some of them were torn and stained with your blood,
lost among the frozen grass,
but I didn’t dare to check and count.
Since then, when I notice a missing button
on our kids’ clothes,
I don’t grab a needle to mend them.
An empty hole doesn’t cripple
as much as an empty home.
Rupa
Dugme, izgubih dugme, reče mi.
Za koji dan nesta još jedno,
a potom opet jedno.
Šta se dešava s ovom dugmadi?
Čekao si da ih zamenim ćutke, strpljivo.
Konačno sedoh s iglom I koncem,
otkinuh sva što su preostala,
i saših novu zelenu dugmad
da se slažu s kaputom
i tvojim očima.
Ponosna na svoj rad I kako ti stoje,
pratim te krajičkom oka ranim jutrom
dok odlaziš kolima na posao
u svom zimskom kaputu,
zakopčan do grla.
Uvek si bio jak, ali ne ovaj put,
ne jači od kamiona i magle.
Donesoše te nazad, već okupanog I presvučenog.
U plastičnoj vreći, pažljivo složen,
bio je tvoj zimski kaput
s novom, sjajnom dugmadi.
Zapitah se da li su neka od njih otkinuta
i umrljana tvojom krvlju,
ostala izgubljena u smrznutoj travi,
ali se ne usudih da ih prebrojim.
Od tada, kad primetime dugme koje nedostaje
na odeći naše dece,
ne mašam se za iglu I konac.
Rupa ne ostavlja prazninu
koliko prazan dom.
