Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Sawdust

Dad's in his workshop,
sawing holes in things,
making dust and saw dust,
wood-inspired dreams;

making a good grinding,
band-saw's filling up the air,
radial-arm project bearing,
rounded bits and squares.

I'm in my office,
not typing up a storm,
just whittling away some fabric,
my new creative norm;

making a good grinding,
Singer humming out a tune,
making "saw dust" of my own,
a'nother dream come soon.

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