Now I knit myself back into a human. It’s hard work relearning the steps—slip-stitch, drop-stitch, pick-up stitch, loop. I get into a rhythm. The pattern is complex—I drop a few stitches. The holes form gaps in my memory. Knitting visions and memories, Anna Jacobson’s collection traces the skeins of lost histories and the spaces of dropped stitches. Exquisite and whimsical, these poems bear witness to the broken and healed. Gentle but robust, these are poems of personal resilience, framed by explorations of Jewish culture and family and fuelled by a boundless and exhilarating imaginativeness.