One time when I was young my father asked me to help him in the shop by sanding some wood. I began sanding the board against the grain. When my Dad barked at me for it I threw the sanding block down and never helped him again. So perhaps it’s fitting that for the past thirteen years my work has focused almost exclusively on the natural beauty of wood.
Quarry
The sun looks higher here by the quarry
Daylight savings a forgotten grumblefor the sleep-deprived days of yestermonth.
The time is truly 6:49, but soon thebiddies...
Beat
An amniotic lake within meand you, floating
then the deafening silence,static nothingness where I
expected sound.
For a week I am a shipwrecknot split open on rocky...
Late in the Game
We sleep peacefully,side-by-side,except, by chance,when she or I turn outward, to the edgeof our plush and well-shaped bed.
Never inward, it would...
