LIFELINES
Her dead husband
trapped behind glass
laughs from his
faded photograph.
He stands in a field
of wallpaper roses.
She knits & knits
as if
she was knitting
time.
Time is cast on.
She never drops a stitch.
"Purl..purl...purl"
her tabby purrs.
At night she unravels
the day's knitting
as if disposing of all
that wasted time.
Time is cast off.
Tomorrow she will
begin again
the endless endless knitting
that is neither
scarf or cardigan
a... nothing.
A car headlight sweeps
across her husband's face
brings him alive
for an instant
and then he is
dead
forever again.
The knitting needles
pierce the blue
ball of wool
that will be tomorrow.
Sleep at last is
kind to her.
She hopes Death
will find her soon
so that tomorrow
need not be
knitted. . .
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
LIFELINES
Her dead husband
trapped behind glass
laughs from his
faded photograph.
He stands in a field
of wallpaper roses.
She knits & knits
as if
she was knitting
time.
Time is cast on.
She never drops a stitch.
"Purl..purl...purl"
her tabby purrs.
At night she unravels
the day's knitting
as if disposing of all
that wasted time.
Time is cast off.
Tomorrow she will
begin again
the endless endless knitting
that is neither
scarf or cardigan
a... nothing.
A car headlight sweeps
across her husband's face
brings him alive
for an instant
and then he is
dead
forever again.
The knitting needles
pierce the blue
ball of wool
that will be tomorrow.
Sleep at last is
kind to her.
She hopes Death
will find her soon
so that tomorrow
need not be
knitted. . .
