When I Get Old

Some day
when I am old
a very long time
from now...

Twenty years away
at least...

I 'm going to take
my ninety-year-old body
and young knitting soul
to town.

My role model
appeared in the shape
of a proprietress
of a knitting shop in
Mt. Dora, Florida.

The storefront wedged into
a tiny niche on a side street
was comfortable, the size
of a narrow closet
or generous coffin,
filled with yarn
and color-plated knitting books.

The knitting crone barely visible
in a poorly lighted corner rocked
to the rhythm of needles in hand.

She watched me as I
spun the book rack unable to
make a selection among such
an array of choices.

She offered no counsel.
We were two souls in tandem.

The bins of yarn enclosed us
like a shroud.

Hidden on a small flat board
was a cash register if she should
choose to unearth it.

I could have stayed for hours
or come daily but of course
we were on vacation and Husband
didn't have the same desire to
spend an afternoon in stunned
awe fingering soft toned fibers.

The knitting goddess
comes to mind often
when someone opens with the
conversational tag line:
"When I get old..."

When I get old
I'm going to be
a knitting guru...
Rent a storefront
on Main Street
in a Mt. Dora clone.

Surround myself with
yarn and books.

Wait for kindred spirits
to appear.

I wonder if the knitting lady
is still there.

Or, did she die happy surrounded
by her books and needles

And transition to knitting
heaven with ease?