The Road I Didn'T Take
The Road I Didn’t Take
The smell of fresh cut pine is
a balm to my soul as the crosscut saw
works its way through the wood, fine
saw dust sprinkles the floor.
The rough palms of my hands push
the plane over the fresh cut side
of the board curly shavings fall
to the floor as the uneven edges are smoothed.
The gentle tap of the wooden mallet
to drive the chisel into the wood is
a soothing sound to my ears, wood
chips litter the table as the dado joint forms.
The hammer is suspended in mid air
ready to strike as a distant bell assault’s
my ears and I awaken to realize I am
late for my shift in the pharmacy
counting pills and worrying about insurance.
Copyright © Oliver Mckeithan | Year Posted 2023
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