I finger the yarn,
Checking its strength and quality,
Comparing the weights and colors.
The shop keeper watches me,
Unsure and unconvinced.
I am a foreign woman in a foreign land.
Possessing only the barest words of her language.
I pick up a particularly beautiful skein.
It is soft and obviously hand-dyed.
And sighing the sigh of true appreciation
I meet her eye and breathe,
“Sehr shon”. (There are umlauts over the ‘o’, ..)
“Very lovely.”
She stops,
Then beams,
Proud that the quality
Of the material she loves
Transcends.
We nod in agreement
As women (and knitters) will sometimes do,
With shared understanding
Of the humble importance
Of simple
Useful things
Which can only be created
One stitch at a time.
Shared with permission by Carrie Newcomer
