Doug Roy, Sun Airplane Trees, Cut Paper
I would knit you a sweater (if only I could)
the softest wool from Kashmir goats, arcadian herds
with the finest coats gently combed and coaxed
to make shearing serene
I’d choose a gray-green shade, to match your eyes
wool dyed with sage and nettle, rinsed until the patina
is sea glass, sagebrush, overcast sky
skeins of yarn winding their way from desert to sea
to the basket before me, to be cast onto needles that weave
like fairytale wands, like Penelope’s loom
I would knit while the moon is full and the floorboards
creak, while ghost owls wheel above trees and eaves
as the Nordic blessing of gifted yarn
cascades into collar and sleeve, yoke and hem, tailored
to fit you, just you, just now – soft as feather and breath
close as lichen on stone
_____________
Lucinda Trew