March 2017

Back to Issue 1


By Krissy Kneen

My sister has disappeared and I am knitting

a new one

looping myself to you in a rhythmic


A gift of wool blended with alpaca

like the one I shared

with my sister.

High-stepping, proud head

reared to spit.

I remember being cautious

petting at arms length,

my sister

who loved animals too much

and us too little.


I am knitting a scarf for you

taking poems tongue-spun

from the mouth of laureates.

Pulitzer winning whispers.

Booker silences.

Word by careful word I pearl

and plain-speak.

Thinking: sister.

Knowing: sister is lost.

Pulling the sweet yarn of your friendship close

and with your lanolin in hand

casting my sister off.