They sit behind
an old-fashioned
Singer,
bolts of fabric
against the wall.
The little daughter,
fluttering her lashes, asks
for a gown like cake.
They snip and shape until
it is frothing with lace and
chiffon and smooth
strips of velvet
in bright blue.
In the sewing room,
they hum as if
still in the womb,
and father sings
from behind the door.
Other work by Zahera Saed