Psalm of the Knitter
Your lightning lit up the world,
struck my house as I reached
for the light switch. I was tightened
to a secular lemon and copper, stiffened
by a tongue of fire. Now I know
French: fontaine, adieu, souffrant.
And I can knit.
I've put every cable imaginable
into this scarf which is now
three miles long—all my favorite stitches:
Flaming Peace and Lady's Fan.
Some You've taken; set on fire from inside out at a Bingo Parlor
or cow pasture, in the garden--consumed by an excresence
of fire. They leave a black flourish for others to measure.
Allyson Shaw has just completed a novel loosely based on the life of Saint Catherine of Siena, and currently lives in Long Beach, California. Her work has recently appeared in The Birmingham Poetry Review,
Volt, and The Berkeley Poetry Review, and she recently won second place in the annual Mudfish poetry contest. In addition, Allyson has published in the online publication Octavo.