Yarn by Allison Thung

I was a skein of forest green yarn
cast on with intent to knit a scarf,
or perhaps a pair of gloves,
but which exactly no longer mattered,
for at some point mid-pattern,
it became obvious that
I was on the wrong track,
and so I unravelled to a loose strand
that, left untended, tangled,
hence the haphazard temporary
looping around of what remained of me,
and until the next project came along,
I sat probable,
amidst other skeins of yarn
unchanged or rewound or a fraction
of what they were when they began,
knowing that someday soon,
in spite of knitter or needles,
with dropped stitches or perfect cables,
I would be;
we would be.

— from Juniper Volume 6, Issue 2