The Craftsman.

For the wooden man

to do carpentry

is a curious fate.

For him to scrape away his skin

searching for something

there within,

is he a sculpture

or a person?

He hopes his grain

will explain.

But to find it,

calls for pain

after pain

a craft he worries

won't end

until only a splinter

remains.

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Adrift.

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What my Building Hope Sounds Like From Below the Ground.