A Gift of Buttons

What can it mean and why these?
Of all the possibilities
For your anticipation
your understanding
your today
your tomorrow

And yet these caught my wanderings
Stopped me dead in aimless tracks
Said to me, you are there
this makes sense
don't think about it
don't come back later

Made by hand, each slightly different
The imperfection of human touch
Laid out like so many dinner rolls
a confectioner's frosting
glazed and then the kiln
a second kiln, then a third

Why twelve? Not by chance
Nine were not enough
Fifteen beyond my reach
every day a compromise
between need and real need
words and necessary words

It's too much and nowhere near enough
To touch your collar, dress your front
Closure of breast pocket or sleeve
the gift of no money
the gift of arrested step
the gift of buttons