Self-Portrait | Knitting.

…inspired by this poem:


When are you coming back to stand in front of the window?
(I heard you whistling last night. Cars pass me by all day,

waves circling the enormous globe.)
So much is left out, I’m knitting a pattern without

stitches, without needles, only long fingerbones
to carry yarn. There was something buried

the night I left Eau Claire for good, and I never knew
how it would grow. Now your childhood friends

are my students, I walk past houses you lived in
without my knowledge and your scent trails

from abandoned bakeries. Whole warehouses
have been invented to catalogue want like this.

I go on knitting night and day because I don’t know
any other thing. All unknits by darkness

into twine birds use piece by piece. What secret
name can I call you? What adventure are you on tonight?

There is forgetting in the density of raw new wool,
yarn shop one block from your apartment,

the cheap scarf–you don’t value things
because you never make them. Moon over the whitening work

sharpens spindle, windowframe. The sash
is pulled, seam is set: without material, there is no map.

~éireann lorsung, from music for landing planes by

8 thoughts on “Self-Portrait | Knitting.

  1. This is new to me – and I have enjoyed reading it several times. It almost requires reading aloud. Your delicate yet strong photo is perfect with it.

  2. Firstly, I may need to read that poem many, many times to wring the meaning out of it. And secondly, I'm not sure that can be a self-portrait; I don't think I've ever seen a photo of you where you are not smiling or laughing! Interesting Sunday post!

  3. The poem and the photo together are perfection. I will be reading this poem many, many times, just as others have said, as there is so much more to understand that you can with only one or two readings.

  4. Wow, there is a lot to that poem, one to be read and pondered. I don't think I have ever seen a picture of you without a smile on your face!

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