Cashmere
Balls of goat hair
from Outer Mongolia
bagged up in my closet
fine thread unknotted
in hand-rolled skeins
Bright earth colors of supple cashmere
personal favorites
green for vibrant growing things,
white for scudding clouds
blue for summer sky
Heirlooms knitted, complex designs
with vigilantly counted stitches,
given freely away—
delicate christening robes,
yards of sweaters and vests
I cradle blue, green, and white
envisioning cashmere comforts
that I will knit for myself
when I am ready
Poet Victoria Crawford lives in Thailand now, but has spent a good portion of her life teaching and writing in the Middle and Far East. Her poems have appeared in journals such as Pensive Stories, The Muse, and Pacific Poetry.
Amethyst Review 