As I post the third part of this nine-day poem, I am chagrined to admit that I am the only woman in my family who is useless at knitting. Ah well!
My Mother’s Book of Hours: Novena
At the bottom of the second drawer I’m shamed
By boxed-up sets of dinky (show-off!) books for knitters
And (for me) a dummy’s guide to knitting.
Not even page 1’s careful diagrams could help me knit.
The family dropped a stitch with me.
Yes, Granny knitted, cousins knit, Mum knitted
(Needles clicket-clacket, click, click, clack)
And so do you. But I?
Lost cause! I never got the knack.
© Lizzie Ballagher