Hello Sawdust

 

Hello Sawdust

Hello sawdust.
I’m well. I’m back.
Taste of tannin,
scent of sap,
tickle of fine grit
after rehab pain
through every portal
you awaken my brain.

Powder of sun ray,
powder of fog’s drip,
powder of soil thrust
through roots to the sky,
hot breath of the forest
you complete my healing.
Such a feeling!

Sing to me the rhythm of craft.
Guide my fingers, the work will flow.
Sing, sawdust.
Hello!

……

First published in Snapdragon
photo by Lazar Catt

Note: Several years ago I came down with a near-wipeout of an illness that laid me up for many weeks. When finally I felt strong enough to work, it was an outdoor deck repair, a gorgeous day in May fresh after rain, and the first nose-full of sawdust was like a jolt of joy. So that night, I wrote this poem.