Tallis, Weave, Scarves, Feathers

Six hundred and thirteen knots
mark holiness. Six hundred
and thirteen braids
tickling a back in shades
of brown (coffee, caramel,
timberland boot tan).

Shades of brown, the colors
of the scarves tied in a cast
down the arms of the immigrant women
in display, scarves for sale, soft
and heavy on their arms
when police come
and they run like pigeons
from the foot of a child,
scarf fringes scattering.

(They run with their arms spread wide
there is no other way to run
with so many scarves
and only two arms)

Much simpler:

There are these women, immigrants, who sell scarves on the street in Rome. They tie the scarves around their arms so that when they stand still they can be a human sales rack. But what they're doing is illegal, they don't have permits to make money on any particular slab of pavement. And when the police come, they've got to run away. WIth the scarves all hanging from their arms, when they run, they look like huge birds. Like huge pigeons running from the foot of a child. When they make it around the corner, they'll tie the scarves up and put them in a bag and pretend that they aren't birds but regular people who aren't doing anything but walking.

Much different:

There are migrant birds who sell their feathers on the streets of Rome. Their feathers are very valuable, and come in all shades of brown. They stand on the corners with their wings spread wide so that passersby can see their collection and admire their beauty and softness and weight.