No Little Envelope

I'm lucky there are things to do with sadness and loneliness
like writing them down
drawing them inside hamlets of words
built upon large interstices of white

so they can be seen outside.
sewn into a penumbral corner
and watched for movement inside
after a bit of rain draws interrupted lines in the air
draws many interrupted lines over many interrupted lines
over a text of stitched air
where the ink needle could go
and make a finer tailoring of reality.