Zachariah Wells

Burlap sacks of shorn wool, pungent
Cushions in the porch on which

To perch and tie a boot, until,
Unstuffed, soaked in the tub, hung up,

Carded into batts, pinched and twisted
On the bobbin to the treadle’s

Metric creaking, wound up in skeins
And clews, strung through heddles

And levered by pedals to let
Pass the shooshing shuttle through

The warp to form a weft—or purled
And knitted into patterns, into

Socks and toques and mittens, scarves
And gloves and sweaters, to the metric

Clicking of the needles as my
Mother counted stitches in a row.


JailbreaksZachariah Wells is the editor of Jailbreaks: 99 Canadian Sonnets, and the co-author of Anything
But Hank!
, a children’s story; he lives in Vancouver, but not for long.


One Response

  1. […] and highly addictive. What I can offer, though, is new poetry by Danielle Devereaux and Zachariah Wells from our forthcoming third issue. As for winter… well, you’ll just have to wait it out. […]

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