Ends of complex strings woven through years, just now unraveling
Me, no scrap of yarn to roll playfully around your hands
While time allows your soul to slowly cast new stitches
Onto differing sized needles with expected uneven tension.
Please knit your practice scarves without wrapping me
In the acrylic offerings of your heart
Mine has paid time for many rows complete,
To keep my hard fought cashmere soft I cannot chance…
A spinners wheel that yields yet twine.
Copyright © Lindsay Meyer