The Spring Shawl of the previous post is growing. Knitting garter stitch rows between slipped stitches is a peaceful counterpoint to the exuberance of spring celebrations. Yesterday I planted tomatoes, peppers, basil, and thyme. I didn't have much compost. Fall leaves, grass clippings, and tea bags need more time to simmer under a hot sun. A robin is weaving a nest way out on a birch limb. I trust she knows her business. The spring flowers are early but glorious this April, National Poetry Month.
Have you noticed the best knitting projects acquire a rhythm? Needles move in, out, around and through. Knit two, purl two ribs create structure. Knit three rows, slide or twist a stitch into a vine. Slip slip knit, knit two, yarn over, knit two, knit two together shapes a leaf. Spaces between stitches make a pattern.
Spaces between lines structure a poem. Sounds in letters and words lull the listener/reader. Then the poet breaks a line, repeats a phrase, or substitutes "quiet" for "hush." Rhythm and meaning change.
If you are in search of a poem, read your knitting, pick rhubarb in the rain, or peer into a tangle of columbine, wild with color.
