wooden birds

wooden birds

A Poem by hanford zdeb

 


Solid and unbreathing,

wooden birds are stacked as firewood,

and his loose hands, tired from carving,

red from the harsh soap and stiff brush, 

cleaned and raw,

will soon rest in the folded moments of a nap.

 

their round eyes stare at him across

the dust and tools on the table,

as he picks at the wood dust beneath his finger nails

and talks to each as a parent sent to

retrieve them from the perfect wood.

 

in the meeting of hand and tool,

he replaces the bits of living lost over the years.

lovers on rocks and children through doors,

teachers and taught

and the birds become cared for

they take on a name,

reminisced with

and released.

© 2022 hanford zdeb


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This word portrait seems to be of a man who has seen a lot of years and a lot of life. One senses he has also seen a goodly number of losses in his time and now he is pretty much alone. His carved ducks are his main companions now and we are left to wonder how happy he is. This spare, understated work leaves us to make our own decisions as to that, but warns us in its own way not to jump to conclusions. Well done.

Posted 5 Days Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

This word portrait seems to be of a man who has seen a lot of years and a lot of life. One senses he has also seen a goodly number of losses in his time and now he is pretty much alone. His carved ducks are his main companions now and we are left to wonder how happy he is. This spare, understated work leaves us to make our own decisions as to that, but warns us in its own way not to jump to conclusions. Well done.

Posted 5 Days Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on August 4, 2022
Last Updated on August 4, 2022

Author

hanford zdeb
hanford zdeb

Fly over country, IL



About
Old man. Still curious, still amazed. more..

Writing