Wednesday, May 18, 2011

mist



grandma's quilt drapes my gardens lush and crowded and so green it stings
the road beyond shrouded in Seattle slumber


inside the shop everything that can rust glistens oozing with oil
shavings damp and pungent litter both ground and bench 
a drift in the corner knee deep


great stacks of rich dark walnut facets wink as I pass


new born dust settles fast as it embraces the heavy air
fibers slice easily no rumble of protest as my saw cuts clean


the mirrored side a time machine, all those cuts are like memory
I dance as I saw



124
yes that's the magic number
I finally figured out how many tenons and their mates


maybe


somewhere in the meantime I made this, guess I should have documented its progress, listed step by aching step how I reached this point
but I aint here to teach