Yarn and Hook
I wind the soft yarn
over a small metal hook,
pull through two loops,
wind again and pull through.
Repeat. Double Stitch. Repeat.
Again and again. Until a half inch
rises from the last edge finished.
Mental health experts extol
this motion of yarn and hook,
hands busier than the brain.
Praise it as mindful as meditation.
On winter nights. Crochet calls.
Lures me to the couch.
Where I sit, weaving warm colors
back into my life, strand by strand,
taming listless thoughts with sturdy stitches,
joining loops into patterns I control.
*
In Memoriam
Katherine Janus Kahn, Children’s Book Illustrator and Fine Artist
Ten years ago, after coming home
from a funeral for a mutual friend,
you told me you took your poodle
straight to the park.
No stopping to change clothes
or even heels, you said you grabbed
the leash and left for a field where
your curly pup could scamper and bark.
You told me you needed to see life
playing, prancing in the grass after
a sad morning of saying goodbye.
Now, at your graveside, I recall
the day I came to your studio,
your right arm waving with a flourish,
like Vanna White in Wheel of Fortune,
your passion for art vibrant
as the paintings on the wall.
And the day you arrived
with two feather boas.
One for you, one for me.
How we posed for pictures. Your smile
as radiant as your red hair.
*
Jacqueline Jules is the author of Manna in the Morning (Kelsay Books, 2021), Itzhak Perlman’s Broken String, winner of the 2016 Helen Kay Chapbook Prize from Evening Street Press, and Smoke at the Pentagon: Poems to Remember (Bushel & Peck, 2023). Her poetry has appeared in over 100 publications including ONE ART, Amethyst Review, Offcourse, and Poem Alone. Visit her online at www.jacquelinejules.com
