Jan 07, 2010 21:12
BEAK
To the clicking of knitting needles, I fell asleep on the train
And dreamed of knitting, is this what they call woolgathering,
Dreamed of my mother purling and plaining to patterns
In Woman's Own and Woman. I woke to a woman
Whose long mauve thumbnail was sharpened into a spike
And she texted, texted, texted, with that pecking beak.
Kit Wright