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“Knitting’s like everything,” it’s tempting to say.
No. Knitting’s like knitting. Sure, there’s cosmology

in Norwegian sweaters with vertical stars,
but as science that doesn’t get us far.

If space is made of superstrings
then God’s a knitter and everything

is craft. Perhaps we can darn
tears in the space-time continuum

and travel down wormholes to begin
to purl in another dimension’s skein.

But no. There are things you can’t knit:
a spaceship. A husband, though the wish

might be strong and the softest thread
would be perfect for the hair on his head,

another, tougher, that washes well
for his pecs and abdominals. You can stitch a soul

daily and unpick mistakes,
perform some moral nip and tucks —

forgiveness. Look out. Your Frankenstein
might turn and start knitting you again.

Editor's Note: Commissioned by BBC Radio 4.