Wood Worker Poem by Stephen De Marino

Nail, dowel, screw
Glue, paper, tool
With these do I prepare
Arms flowing along grain
Smooth brought from rough
By hand and machine
Removing upstart fibers
Polished into lined conformity
Fingers feeling texture
Seeking out flaw
Sanding away discord
Leaving only perfection
Behind grits travel
Sweat and labor
Applied to bits of corpse
Dead tree's splintered bones
Transformed into beauty.
-STD '05