We are trading in poetry. From Terry's poem I write this. The memories of spinning felt in my fingertips. I love the rhythm and cadence of spinning. It's hard work and my uneven threads made bulky jumpers for our cold winters. I spent some of the shearing season at a friends farm...gathering wool samples and playing at the back of the wool store.
https://impedagogy.com/wp/blog/2021/10/27/8555/
Spinning.
The spinner
Tugs a lock
Checking breaks
Measuring length and crimp
Before carding
One bag ready.
Adjusting drive band
Testing treadle
Bobbin ready
Feeding through
Finding rhythm
Twisting gently
Breathing lanolin
Dreaming patterns
Bag empty.
#poemresponse #smallpoems
I love when poems become the thing that we share in response
ReplyDeleteObserve. Spin. Sing. This makes the finest kind of poetry (and wool). That is a damned fine staple.
ReplyDelete