old temple deck
imploding with wet rot
sledge banged down
the rest of the way
heavy gravel
stepping stone lifting
old barn boards rise again
overfilled black earth
flower beds bloom
robe cinched up
covered in sawdust motes
mouth full of galvanized steel
rough carpenter monk
building as art
I can see it taking form, a thing of beauty. I love the sawdusty robe!
ReplyDeleteYour poems bloom, my poet friend!! Building as art, life as a happy verse. Always a pleasure to read your work.
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