I sewed a stitch in time once, Knitted a piece of yarn past Into yarn present, A morning love Into an afternoon love, A thread from puberty Into the fabric of age, Weaving longer a stylish gown. It saved a lot of time, Recycling old habits, Bending old strings To fit new garments, Saving heartaches, Maybe nine. But the old threads strained, Styles had changed, And where in youthful inexperience, They fit badly, They fit worse In the freedom of age.