As my five needles make their rounds,
I watch my skein grow smaller.
Click, snap, twist, lock.
Heathered yarn knots into fabric.
My skein grows smaller
But a tube buds from my needles like a spring leaf.
Heathered yarn knots into fabric,
Weaving a line into the third dimension.
A sock buds like that friendship with you.
A needle goes in on the right to
Weave a line into the third dimension.
It exits on the left.
A needle goes in on the right to
Make amends.
It exits on the left,
Spinning the yarn of renewed friendship.
“Make amends,”
I dream. I dream
We spin the yarn of a renewed friendship together.
My hope is stitched between each round.
I dream. I dream.
I miss you. I miss the way
We stitched hope for the next round
When we were outside the pool gate, waiting.
I miss you. I miss the way
We wove music the way I weave socks without you.
We sat outside the pool gate, waiting
For our future as story spinners.
We wove music the way I weave socks without you.
Click, snap, twist, lock,
Threads of love and regret mesh into fabric
As my five needles make their rounds.
By Anna Byham