Oh me! Oh knitting! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless faces of the failed,
Of sweaters fill’d with errors,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more error prone than I, and who more knitterly?)
Of needles that vainly crave the stitches, of the sweaters mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the dropped stitches I see around me,
Of the rows and useless days of knitting, with fellow knitters me intertwined,
The question, Oh me! so sad, recurring – What good amid these, O me, O knitting?
That you are here – that yarn exists and beauty,
That the powerful needles click on, and you may contribute a row.
Original poem by Walt Whitman