Turning a heel

You were turning a heel
on the sorefooted
Saturday train,

elbows tucked in,
coaxing yarn to looped
links in bracken-curl green,

the upended half-sock,
knitted in thirds, growing
a stocking-stitch sole,

each impeccable row
giving shape to the foot
of the man at your side,

your to and fro talk -
from somewhere up north -
easy as armchairs,

his broad shoulders
your shelter, his kindliness
matched by your own.


Helen Overell

Copyright Notice
The content on glasgowreview.co.uk is copyright 2008-2010 The Glasgow Review and
individual contributors, and may not be reprinted, reproduced or retransmitted
in whole or in part without the Editor's prior express written consent.