this is how life happens,
unspooling smooth
in front of us
until we grab it up
into needles or hooks
to make some(one)thing
of it, but I don’t crochet
or knit. those disciplines
of ordered tangling
are beyond me, so I play
cat’s cradle with mine
& maybe change colors
weaving a god’s eye
between crossed popsicle sticks
easy enough to do
because that’s not craft
it’s geometry
just another way
I have learned to live the big
through the mundane
technology of hands
the significance
hiding inside crossed sticks
Elmer’s glue
& yarn
Susan Daniels Poetry 
Very good Susan, I liked the follow through. >KB
Thanks so much, KB.
What a great metaphor!
Thank you, David. Had to go with it…
My treasure of happiness lies
In the eyes
On the yarn glue and sticks
Set for eyes and other eyes
X marks where eyes mix
Oh–I like that a lot!
: D
A better usage than that of Madame Defarge. 😉
My mom crochets, a skill I’d never acquire.
Hahaha–you got me this time, don’t get the reference, I am ashamed to admit. Oh. they tried to teach me to crochet–I am hopelessly inept.