Don’t Take Up Knitting For Relaxation

by Annette Marie Smith

The goddess of knitting
is a harsh diety
forbidding me wine
even just one glass.
She has caused the end
of one of my knitting needles
to fall off
taking all of my work with it
and my patience to collapse.
She has me singing anti-hymns
as the yarn unfurls,
curse words,
to punctuate each purl.
She takes possession of my cat
and stalks my every stitch.
That knitting goddess is a bitch.

Winter Sunshine

The winter sunshine this morning is many chandeliers each lit with a single fat white candle. They all tilt in the cold wind and their drippings fall as uneven snow so cold it burns. — Annette Marie Smith

Walls, Windows, Doors

As the sun was setting my son pointed out the view of The Lyric’s apartment windows from the vantage point of our parked car. The windows showed frame after frame of blue, violet, and gold sky. As I looked at the sky painted on all those windows, he suggested I see through them to the other side and my perception shifted and the windows were merely frames which we were looking through to the other side. I couldn’t help but think that a wall of windows is also, in a way, a wall of doors and I saw all them all lined up, right here in Minnesota on a Thursday sitting in the car with my son, a wall of heaven’s doors.

Demons Roost

I worked on a song today and filled my house with reminders of spring. The song I’m working on is called Demons Roost and is actually sweet and charming despite its title which would suggest otherwise.