I have in my pocket
\na brilliant red string
\nthat unspools like a magician\u2019s scarf.
\nAn infinite ball of
\nbright linen thread
\nat my fingertips.<\/p>\n
I thread it through the eyelets of my boots,
\nlace them up over
\nscarlet-darned socks,
\nand fashion myself a cardinal
\nin sweaters and scarves,
\ndropped stitches and loose ends.<\/p>\n
I knit hammocks between my knuckles,
\nsummer camp friendship bracelets
\nfor the sycamores,
\nthe oaks,
\nthe robins sequestering chicks
\nin poppy petal nests.<\/p>\n
I stitch closed cracks
\nin the sidewalk,
\nstring violas and kites
\nto kiss the air,
\ncast lines to the bottom of the sea,
\nbetween telephone poles,
\nfrom her windowsill to mine
\nwith a bucket full of roses that could soar for miles
\nto find her.<\/p>\n
I stand on street corners
\nwatching hair bows on heads,
\nbookmarks in bags,
\npatches on pockets
\npass by.
\nThe street is alive with rose
\nthreads with no idea
\nthe vastness of their quilt. <\/p>\n
What a world,
\nto be tangled together
\nby the string in my pocket.
\nBrilliant, and
\ninfinite, and
\nred.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Charlie Sharp I have in my pocket a brilliant red string that unspools like a magician\u2019s scarf. An infinite ball of bright linen thread at my fingertips. I thread it through the eyelets of my boots, lace them up over scarlet-darned socks, and fashion myself a cardinal in sweaters and scarves, dropped stitches and loose… <\/p>\n