bone · 18 mm · c. 1872
cut from the long bone of something farm-sized, polished by handling, drilled four times by someone working a treadle in a poorly lit workshop. the holes are not in line. the bone has yellowed where the thumb of one wearer rested.
it fastened the inside flap of a winter coat that was twice re-collared and finally given to a younger cousin. when the coat was unpicked for cloth, this button was set aside in a saucer and then in the tin in the drawer. it has been there longer than most marriages last.
a great-aunt saved it. she saved everything that could be sewn back on: hooks, eyes, the small steel claws of skirt-fasteners, all kept beside the sewing-room window where the light is honest.
field-note · hold it to your ear: nothing. hold it to your tongue: cold, then not.