Knitting Pattern

She took me in hand, taught me
to knit wool from lambs
she raised to sheep.

With my torn jeans and dirty face
I was wild as a barn cat.
She gave me the quiet
of her farmhouse, helped me cast on
into the realm of soft clicking,
elbows moving up and down
like bellows breathing.

I learned the delicate dip and dive
of needles and the patient way
to stockinet, garter, seed.
How not to drop a stitch.

Now a neighbor child
whose mother says can’t sit still
comes to me for lessons.
Her feet don’t reach the floor
but the scarf grows long
on her needles.

After we finish a session
we go out on the back porch
to bark and yowl, as I did
with my teacher who said:
Calm down a bit
but don’t get prissy.