Six Ways of Looking at a Sewing Machine

I don’t know which I care for more: The sewing machine on the shelf Or my starving piggy bank. All the different settings Sing songs with lyrics That are in a different language And when the sun sets And the wind blows The designer must know, too, That the machine is still there. It remains still, Never disturbing the Earth. It is a sewing machine And it does not grow up to be like its father Trying to escape harsh criticism. The sewing machine befriends the boy. A gust of wind And the boy wipes away his black tears. The back of his hand is damp along with his pink nails. He knows that friendships last forever. It stares at me. I look the other way. I know, I know, I know. They call me crazy, But a day soon to come: This sewing machine may be one of my masters. Money is everything. She’d rather spend her life savings Then take a chance on being frugal. Take a chance with the sewing machine.