Knitting
There came
a moment of inattention,
I
think I was trying to make sense of my own design,
when
it began to unravel.
I
dropped stitches,
felt
the yarn untwist then knot between my fingers.
There
came that moment of inattention,
when
my own fashioning began to seem unwieldy,
and
I purled instead of plained
and
our glorious pattern looked
awkward,
unworked, unbeautiful.
There
came this moment
when
I saw what I had done
and
cried.
Then
there came another moment
when
together we scooped up the sorry mess
and
wove
a variation
on what we had before
but
more brilliant.
