the first row


the first row
is the hardest
set up the pattern
count from the edge
to see if the numbers work

sitting in my head
a piece waits for translation
from air into wool
needle exchange
sometimes the twist works
sometimes it does not
row after row
silent meditation
between fingers

the eyes wander mostly
to the screen, the room
to what the shadows are doing
in the corner
knowledge is not held there
in the seeing

it’s like breathing in the end
bringing a blanket
out of nothing
to lay across my lap
and grow to wrapping size

a gift of embrace
waiting to be held
by the next person
so my hands can go back
to their work

Leigh-Anne Fraser March 6 2017


One thought on “the first row

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