Life Cycle of a Cardigan

I began as wool shorn
from a sheep, a cluster of cloud
to dye and card and spin,
and knit until a perfect cardigan was born –
colourful, cuddly and warm.

When you first saw me I was fresh
and new, my colours bright.
You’ll never know the frisson
of joy when I felt your fingers tight
in my fibre. And then you bought me!

For months you wore me everywhere,
arms in sleeves, buttoned up, in warmer
weather shrugged on shoulders,
I never imagined getting older –
until the first bobbles showed.

I was relegated to substitute dressing-
gown on cold mornings,
left hanging on the bathroom door
and, over time, your cats caught their claws
in me, pulling at my threads.

Where you stretched my cuffs over
ice cold hands, they started to unravel,
and you wear me less and less.
I’m too tatty for the charity shop,
so I suppose the cat bed is my next stop.

Kim M, Russell, 4th March 2025

Image by Giulia Bertelli on Unsplash

For the first Poetics of March at the dVerse Poets Pub, Melissa is hosting with a metamorphosis of sorts.

She says: “Each year we cycle through the seasons, we may closely observe the delicate changes, from beginning to end and beginning again. As a plant lover, I find it especially exciting to plant something and watch it grow from a seed. The process is a joy to watch.” To illustrate this, she has shared an extract from ‘Putting in the Seed’ by Robert Frost, with a suggestion to read ‘The Seedling’ by Paul Laurence Dunbar.

She goes on to ask if we have had the pleasure of seeing “a caterpillar hatch, grow, cocoon itself, and re-emerge as a beautiful butterfly”, accompanied by an extract from ‘The Caterpillar’ by Robert Graves.

Our challenge is to write poems about cycles of transformation. Anything will do, but our poems must have a beginning, middle, and end. Melissa has even given us a list of ideas to get us started. She would also like us to refer to the poems by Paul Laurence Dunbar and Robert Graves, and to try incorporating at least a few lines of personification, in first person.

29 thoughts on “Life Cycle of a Cardigan”

  2. Life…………………………the feeling one gets after reading this verse is hard to describe…certainly emotional…sad..yes….avtually very emotional. Quite amazing what really good poetry will do, but also a lesson learnt, how to make it so much more effective by choosing a “random” object like cardigan, The poem almost feels like a film. Am too sad to give it its deserved second reading just now but I know I will be back.

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  3. I agree with Björn. I feel a bit sad for the cardigan. I find these lines especially lovely and relatable:

    I never imagined getting older –
    until the first bobbles showed.

    I was relegated to substitute dressing-
    gown on cold mornings,
    left hanging on the bathroom door
    and, over time, your cats caught their claws
    in me, pulling at my threads.

    I think we (people) have bobbles, too.

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  5. I can identify with that cardigan, bobbled, worn and shredded around the edges at times…even being a cat’s bed lol! You have a lovely way of knitting the emotion in your poem Kim, a lovely wordsmith indeed.

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  8. I really love this one, Kim! And I know you knit, so that makes it resonate more. Like others, I feel a bit sorry for that poor cardigan–though perhaps it’s pleasant to be in a cat bed. 😊

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  9. Oh no Kim! So many crafting possibilities without sending it to the cat basket – cut up the good portions and stitch like a fabric or unravel and knit again to name a few…

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  13. I have just thrown out a 30 year old t-shirt, I wore one last time, but it was on its last legs 🙂 I somehow grow attached to clothes, and your poem took me to my feelings for special things and how hard it is to say goodbye to them.

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