The Perfect Sweater
by Gabrielle Augustine
I hadn't found the perfect sweater.
Not in JC Penny's,
not in Macy's,
not in Saks 5th Avenue.
A pullover with a round neck,
not a cardigan or a shrug.
But I found my perfect sweater in pieces
lying around my grandmother's yarn shop.
The pattern was in a magazine.
The pages were new, and untouched,
the pages were slick as ice in winter,
the pages were shiny as snow in the sun.
Needles were next, tools of the trade,
varying from sizes 00 to 50.
My choice set was a smooth size 11 -
just right in my hand.
The wood bowed to my demands,
the yarn curled there in a basket
just waiting to be cradled, handled, and loved.
Soft and fuzzy, like a caterpillar
in the deepest, richest purple,
like the center of a violet
or the darkest shade of a sunset.
And so I knitted
and I knitted
and I knitted.
It was sloppy.
It was lopsided.
It had holes, dropped stitches, and runs.
But, my pride and joy,
my first ever sweater
was far from flawless, but
it was mine and I had made it.
It was perfect.