The Button

Holding on by a few bare threads,

I wait for you to notice.

I wait for you to gather me up

and put me back where I belong.

Two threads have become one,

as another of my cotton arms break,

and I swing closer to the ground.

You hastily shove your own cold arms

into the sleeves of my home,

and still you haven’t noticed.

I can feel the final fibers fray

as you hurry along,

oblivious to the last few moments

before

I

fall.