Wood maid (96)
She whittles away at a piece of wood —
Always with a mind of focus and an eye for detail.
Her little man of oak and chiseled features
Emerges from a thick dried branch;
Hand-worked annihilation,
Wood-chips spattered about —
Tung oil finish, and he’s done.
She reaches for another piece
Of hard wood.
Fine poem. Wood in process, work in process. And, in a way, another being in process too. Greetings.
Do check my poems if you feel inclined to :) .
There is also a nod to the naughty in this peice too. ;)
Thank you kindly and as I said on your blog, it's nice to meet you, and welcome.
And so, naughty piece is certainly not wooden, even if conceived from wood ;) .
:: giggles:: treu. :P
Hahaha. Side question - is wood capable of laughing? ;)
Symbolically, yes, and perhaps in the fringe sector of some sciences being explored…
Upvoted, of course. And i like minimalism, too :) .
Yes, you are not kidding. :)
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