ramblings of a knitting fool

Flared Lace Smoke Ring in Baby Alpaca

SOCKS PABLO NERUDA

Maru Mori brought me

a pair

of socks

that she knit with her

shepherd's hands.

Two socks as soft

as rabbit fur.

I thrust my feet

inside them

as if they were

two

little boxes

knit

from threads

of sunset

and sheepskin.

My feet were

two woolen

fish

in those outrageous socks,

two gangly,

navy‑blue sharks

impaled

on a golden thread,

two giant blackbirds,

two cannons:

thus

were my feet

honored

those

heavenly

socks.

They were

so beautiful

I found my feet

unlovable

for the very first time,

like two crusty old

firemen, firemen

unworthy

of that embroidered

fire,

those incandescent

socks.

Nevertheless

I fought

the sharp temptation

to put them away

the way schoolboys

put

fireflies in a bottle,

the way scholars

hoard

holy writ.

I fought

the mad urge

to lock them

in a golden

cage

and feed them birdseed

and morsels of pink melon

every day.

Like jungle

explorers

who deliver a young deer

of the rarest species

to the roasting spit

then wolf it down

in shame,

I stretched

my feet forward

and pulled on

those

gorgeous

socks,

and over them

my shoes.

So this is

the moral of my ode:

beauty is beauty

twice over

and good things are doubly

good

when you're talking about a pair of wool

socks

in the dead of winter.

ramblings of a knitting fool

Sunday, February 06, 2005

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