Tagged: wood

in the middle of

in the middle of
packing a suitcase home, a
splinter or two lodged

in the tips of my fingers –
a run-in with old memories
.
20171220:1214
y

when they talk about

when they talk about
pallet control, do they
analyze the quality of
the embouchure when
air passes through
the stacks at sixty
miles per hour? do
they appraise the
musical squeeze of
harmonies patented
by Raymond and
House in one or
the other’s garage?
or does someone just
put a forklift
in the hymn, and
push the conversation
into the corner until
the early shift takes
over in the morning?
.
20120805:0053
y

in my parent’s house

in my parent’s house
i wake up to the
sounds of
heart pine steel
whispering as not
to wake me, soft
padding of
footsteps in the
hall, across the kitchen

in my parent’s house
we are held
between
heart pine steel
reinforced by
the breathing columns
shuttling in and out of
our particular
nucleus, like bio-
macromolecules
trying to make a living

in my parent’s home
they are
heart pine steel
every morning
beauty
every evening
warmth – and
everything is anchored
effortlessly
like some
sort of enchantment
.
20111115:0848
y