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
Review by Bill Griffin
Ah, but she can. She knits this poem as a gift of earth and heaven for the beloved – earth colors, earth scent, earth-spirit. The craft of her lines weaves a spell, a myth, a binding together as fine and sure as love. For what is love if not soft as feather and breath / close as lichen on stone.
Review by Carol Casey
Basically a love poem. Her musicality seems to emulate the rhythm of knitting. I love the internal rhymes and assonances that add a flavour of harmony and connect the strand of the poem throughout.