S W E AT E R S O V E R S A R I S P O E T RY
S amin a Ha di - Tab a ssumy When we first arrived in America My mother piled her small stack of saris On the shelves of the wooden cabinet With lock and key They were simple cotton ones With bright borders and wide pleats But over time became emblazoned With sequins, beads, and gilded lace One cabinet became two and three As trips back to India gifted more Not just for summer soirees in suburbia She wore them in winter under L.L. Bean sweaters When the children grew older She went to work in the nearby factory Replacing her saris with jeans and shirts And gray smocks with lined pockets Then the grandchildren came to visit and play So she cut up her saris into large swaths Turning them into loose dresses and gowns Abiding by the gridded patterns and tracery These magical robes of my mother Fearless in color and style Are nested in our childhood memories Of an Indian woman determined to unspool herself
67
