Red, orange, yellow, purple, blue and green;

The colors flow smoothly from her fingers

A rainbow of yarn like I’ve never seen

So absorbed in her I stop and linger


With every twist of her agile wrist

I watch intently as the afghan grows

Without looking, she creates every stitch

Then carefully crochets them into rows


The weight of it on her is comforting

Its warmth blocks out the chilly winter air

Still I can’t keep myself from wondering

Will it soon be too much for her to bear?

18 thoughts on “Crochet

  1. Davy D

    This brings back memories of sitting watching my Nan knitting as a child Jerry. It was like watching a magician pulling rabbits from a hat. Kept you transfixed for hours.

    Liked by 1 person

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