49. Knit-Knock

the thread of yarn | to make a tale

out of each of us | a knitted story

all of a piece | not like a life

(disorganized | meandering)

but in the pat | tern of place

turning where | it needs to turn

breaking when | it must

it has an order | you follow it

out of the | skeins of yarn

your hands make | hands of it

or feet | or necks

each yarned thing | reinforces

a human piece | of us

one insufficient | alone

we are all | insufficient alone

yet a single | skein

just one line | of yarn

if long enough | can make

any replacement part | for any

human | in need of bolster

 

night | in your clicking

of needles | (as I in the

clicking of keys) | wanders

through | the repetition

of steps | to devise the thing

a knotted | sense of the warmth

this fat string | will eventually

be central too | the cold

washes over | but the knit

holds it abay | the click

so quiet | makes the knit

and purl | the repetition

makes | the thing

how a made | thing

takes time | and thinking

and time | to think

and preparation | time

to plan | to make

the scarf | before the snow

falls | before someone dies

 

no matter how loud | the sound

around us | we make a thing

in silence | in

the silence of | our heads

this small little | talking

that makes no sound | at all

nothing but | the slosh

of brain | against itself

but telling | the body

what to do | teaching the

body to learn | the small

movement of finger | the speed

for slipping | yarn around

the rhythm | that keeps

the thing | growing

like a | poem

typed out | in

ragged lines | and wondering

where it will | end

whom it will | forget