A Year of Poems – Day 111

Boards splinter, buckle, twist and fray.
Love cuts against the grain.
Sawdust flies and slits the eyes.
Love cuts against the grain.

Tears appear and drown the nose
until its cauldron’s overflow.
But the work continues just the same
Love cuts against the grain.

The carpenter works to cut the boards
to gouge out every knotted sore
to rid the wood of worms and holes.
The wood must never be the same
and so he shapes against the grain.

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