Our Measure

By Laurinda Lind

An imaginary string stretched from Idaho

to New York bends in the middle

at Council Bluffs where I drove

to meet my mother, a centering

from separate ends though since

disarrayed, so now we both unraveled-

plus-resewn women who were frayed

by one each of death and divorce,

yet here we are whole again in Iowa,

knotted more tightly where the threads

that almost broke now nearly intersect.