sally's dance

her fingers dance to the rhythm of the speaker
six needles flying
the long line of silky powder blue wool
converge into a delicate cone shape.

inspired
i wander around the wool shop
the spinner in the back room thumping
wooden floors creaking beneath my feet
a myriad of ochres, reds, violets, blues
the palette of whites and creams and chestnut make me hungry.

thick felted wool in fuschia and chartreuse
the melting softness of cashmere
orange scratchy mohair
that remind me of sweaters i wore
in grade six.

he brings out a felted kimono
purple with bright red poppies
his hands shaking and the shock of white hair
defying gravity

i wonder how his love affair
with texture and colour began.

i choose three big skeins
in whites and taupes
thin and streamlined and thick and soft
all in the same line

that night
in the fall
the leaves are red gold orange brown

and the park looked like it was on fire

i was curled up on my sofa
casting on
and casting off
and trying to make my fingers
dance
like the couple i see next door
through the lace curtains
waltzing
in their kitchen.