Carved my name into bark today
One arc eight hashes deep
Reminding me of wilderness
Trails that remain
Old Man’s Beard covering many trees
Wild roses at the break
Pasture grass running under logs
Needles on the ground
We went in for a simple stud
Two by four by a little less than eight
Sixteen was all we needed
Then we found the clearance bin
And found a great deal on a hinge
Then the tape measure
With two sided measures
And a speed square now on sale!
So there we were with an invoice for
A load of lumber from the yard
And both our hands were balancing
Our finds at the building supplies store.
I cannot shake cobwebs of memories woven
Like the nest of an eight legged creature
Singing along to its tiny violin.
For whether I am last or first becomes
A brown bottle of almost never cared,
Sitting lifelessly on a stained cedar windowsill
Collecting dust and losing its eyes to tears,
Losing its words to years.
Somehow daughters never returned,
Sisters forgot the street number
Even though the sign sat twisted like a unicorn
Whose mane flowed so thickly in powerful gusts of wind
A rooster turned right around watching.
One cobweb strand reminds me of twin fawns
Who would wander by searching for blackberries,
Rich and prime and staining my fingers
Like thick lines trailing after a slug
Crossing a cement pathway.
I’ve grown used to the cobwebs,
Adjusted to being wrapped so delicately
Subtle changes in atmosphere
Cause reverberating sensations to flicker around
Along a one way street on the holy train.
It’s reached a point where I no longer feel
The sweet perspiration of an ice cold Coke bottle;
Instead, the roar of a monotonous dial-tone
Eager to tell me it’s all right,
And I’ve been here before.