By Mark Saba
My beloved T-shirts, worn ragged,
washed to the color of dust, yet
imprinted with my scent
carry everything I’ve witnessed—
their first days of my rejuvenation,
trial period of comfort, and final stretch
of willful obscurity—
as I met with triumph and despair
watching the orioles return,
my mother die, the sunlight of seawater,
my daughter admitted to rehab.
In the end I retire them
to the taboret of my painting studio
where, one by one, I use them to collect
excessive brushstrokes, unplanned arrays
of cadmium color, as I create new worlds
on a blank canvas, and those second skins
provide new comfort, their abandoned lives
awakened to new purpose.
Mark Saba has been writing fiction, poetry, and creative nonfiction for 40 years. His book publications include four works of fiction and three of poetry, most recently Two Novellas: A Luke of All Ages / Fire and Ice (fiction), Calling the Names (poetry) and Ghost Tracks (stories about Pittsburgh, where he grew up). His work has appeared widely in literary magazines around the U.S. and abroad. He is also a painter and works as a medical illustrator at Yale University. Please see marksabawriter.com.