It’s not just little old ladies who do it now.
It’s everyone, or so I’ve heard.
Big and small, sick and well, crazy and sane.
It’s fun, relaxing, even healing, they say.
But for me it’s a meditation.
Knit one purl one is a mantra that works better
than “Ohm” and gets me closer to God.
Or I can knit and think about something else,
knit and talk about something else,
knit and compose a poem as I go.
Grandma taught me how when I was twelve,
and in high school, my bestie said
“Let’s knit our guys a sweater.”
I started one for him, worked on it through
a few others and finished it for my husband.
He wore it constantly and took it with him when he left.
So I knit myself out of that marriage and into another.
I knit for my family when I couldn’t afford store-bought,
and knit for them when we were doing okay.
I knit in memory of my friend when she died,
put it aside when I got depressed, then took
it up again when a knit-shop came to town.
Now, we needlers meet once a week to talk about
our craft and everything under the sun.
I’m back in the groove, knit purl, knit purl,
knitting for myself, knitting for my life.