Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Old Flame

The carpenter's a rough sort of man – full of love,
except if he's a finish carpenter –
full of guile.
Smooth as silk.

He loves all; he knows, or thinks he knows,
all there is to know.
Hammersmash! He knows:
he knows nails,
but he himself is not as hard as wood:
a stem still green, feeling pain,
he thinks of other trades
but will not change,
married to wood
for life.

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