How to crochet
a bird:
sit
well
into
the evening
draw it along
your
lap
only
the length of it
to keep
everything
in
a straight and untangled line
loop it
through
the
fingers
you
choose
will be
the most
use
and
then
loop
it
and
then
begin
to make it
into
a
c
chain
a
i
n
and count.
It counts
if you count
it counts
if you loose count
it counts
if the spool
spools
out through to
the
next
room bumping
u
m
ping
against
the
threshold and coming to
a
rest
next
to the still
immature
cat
who even
with
all her practice
still
can’t
kill
a
bird
with
stealth
and
still
bats
and
bashes
who’s
panicked after licking the sticking
pinfeathers
and
inhaling tiny bones
who
goes through
her
world and your world
scattering
robins
and wrens
and
occasional blackbirds
and
rarer still
favorites:
bluebirds who flew
once they knew
there’s be a cat.
Limp to retrieve
that lost spool
and heave back
over to that chair
and pick up where
you left off:
that
rub on the skull
soon
enough
falling
into your lap
as
from
(at
last)
a
nest
and
given to
the
wind in that attic window
before
its stuffed
years
from now
into
the missing pane.
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