As The Sun Moves Into Sagittarius, Sweater Weather
haibun by KB Nelson
My hands, my fingers, they sparkle, I think my knuckles might explode if I hold them still for too long.
The only peace I find is when I walk in the trees. Leaves flip, exposing their underbellies in the breeze. I return to the cabin, intent on reading a book or preparing tomorrow’s casserole. The balls of wool compel me, or rather with the aid of my hands they patiently form themselves into,
I stitch pieces together and a jersey takes form. Such an odd hem. Short in the back, or at least normal length in back, but long, long and tapered, in front. Opposite to style or practical use.
I anticipate. I wait for someone or something, here high in the forest. The garment has taken form and I hear the arrival.
light swarm of snowflakes
late mornings, long evenings
Ruby Van Bendegem is retired after over three decades as a journalist and a lawyer, and is the recovering mother of four. She lives and paints in northwestern Ontario, Canada. On summer days you will find Ruby and her husband paddling a canoe or kayak on the waters of Lake Superior.
KB Nelson is a Canadian writer who thrives in the intersection of art and science. She has won awards in both poetry and short fiction, and is published in a variety of journals and anthologies. A graduate of Simon Fraser University’s Southbank writing program and mother of two, she currently lives in Greater Vancouver.