I’m not much of a poet, and I have no idea where this one came from, but I do know that I’ve always had a special place for cats. I see them as my comic relief.
I’ve only knit one thing in my life and that was a big mistake; my solo attempt was quickly unraveled and the yarn (along with those treacherous needles) donated to a knitting maven. The misery of that one experience cast all thoughts of the craft from my mind until this month’s WEP showed up.
Somehow the jester-cat and my fledging knowledge of knitting (accompanied with a failure’s dislike) came together. Feel free to unravel it and donate the remains to a real poet.
Knitting With Yarn 101
Dropped stitches.
Mistakes. Oh so many.
Search them out. Fish them up. Is that how it’s done?
Gram knew;
then Mom.
I never understood dropped stitches.
No yarn in my life.
Bring in the Cat.
Tangled. Smug with success.
But those were other days.
Before.
Gauge and tension.
Problems. Oh, so many.
Find the larger needle, the larger the yarn. Is that how it’s done?
Gram knew;
then Mom.
I never understood gauge and tension.
No yarn in my life.
Bring in the Cat.
Crouched. Tense with expectation.
But those were other days.
Before.
Casting off.
Endings. Oh, so many.
Two stitches. One over the other, then off the needle. Is that how it’s done?
Gram knew;
then Mom;
then one ebony day that skein fell into my palm, unraveling.
And there was yarn in my life.
Bring in the Cat.
Stretched long with acceptance.
These are the new days.
After.