The Knitter

By Jackie Kay

I knit to keep death away
For hame will dae me.
On a day like this the fine mist
Is a dropped stitch across the sky.

I knit to hold a good yarn
For stories bide with me
On a night like this, by the peat fire;
I like a story with a herringbone twist.

But a yarn aye slips through your fingers.
And my small heart has shrunk with years.
I couldn’t measure the gravits*, the gloves, the mittens,
The jerseys, the cuffs, the hose, the caps,

The cowls, the cravats, the cardigans,
The hems and facings over the years.
Beyond the sea wall, the waves unfurl.
I knitted through the wee stitched hours.

I knitted till my eyes filled with tears,
Till the dark sky filled with colour.
Every spare moment. Time was a ball of wool.
I knitted to keep my croft…