“The Sweater You Knitted”

“The Sweater You Knitted”

(A Poem Between Son and Mom)

Son (to Mom):
In the silence of winter, when the cold winds blew,
I wrapped myself tight… in the sweater from you.
Threads of your fingers, loops of your care,
Every stitch whispered, “My love’s always there.”

You made it at night, when the world was asleep,
While I chased my dreams, yours ran deep.
A patch of blue, a knot of grey—
You tucked your prayers in yarn that day.

Mom (to Son):
My boy, I remember your little cold hands,
The way you’d shiver when frost kissed the land.
So I sat by the fire with needles and thread,
And wove all my love in brown, gold, and red.

You wore it the first day you walked to school,
The sleeves too long, but you felt so cool.
I watched from the window, heart wrapped tight,
In the sweater I gave, and your brave little flight.

Son:
Now I am grown, and seasons have spun,
But still, I return when the day is done.
Your sweater’s worn, the colors have bled,
But your warmth remains in every thread.

Mom:
I’ll knit you a new one, if time allows,
Though my fingers are slower than they were once now.
But love doesn’t age—it only grows strong,
And sweaters made with love last lifelong.

Together:
Between these threads of wool and time,
Are hugs unspoken, soft and kind.
A bond not broken by distance or years—
A sweater of love… sewn with joyful tears.