short knitting poem

call me a stitch dropper.
miscounter, 
unraveller, 
making the same mistake
again.

or leaving a half-scarf gathering dust
on the top shelf for months,
or a year. 

two years. 

still unwinding, 
trying to find the earlier hitch. 
hands having learned
the best they can.

the remaining thread keeping memory 
of shape and coil. 

it’s true, some mistakes
are not worth fixing. 

but others i mull over, 
uncoil yarn, re-purl,
count the rows,
try again.