Challenging Poetry

double knitting: Phoenix Rising

this week, I am knitting
variations of the number ten.
over and again
in my head, I say:
one, four, three, two,
or seven, three,
or one, two, four, two, one,
or any other ten. six tens per row.
sixty rows per clue.
twelve clues in the pattern.

it's careful work
following a pattern.
a misplaced color
could clip the line
of a wing
or a claw,
stunting the growth of
the myth,
growing like magic from
my needles.

over and again,
ten pairs of stitches,
each a knit and a purl—the knit for
the front side,
the purl for the back—
each pair with a choice:
which should come first,
my multi in all the colors of a fire—
burgundy to orange to yellow—
or my black. coal. stark.

and with each choice,
the picture grows—
front
and back,
a phoenix flies
from the ashes
on both sides
of my fabric.
coal on fire.
fire on coal.

line count: 40
April 10: an instance or pattern of repetition