Carpenter of the Milky Way

 

Carpenter of the Milky Way

Tully tells me Watch the sky.
At sunset Mars will conjoin Earth’s moon.
Tully is close witness of celestial construction.
By nature a day sleeper, by night
he works with wood.

Now his spine squeezes nerve. Stenosis.
Surgery could unlock him. Or paralyze.
Tully calls it The risk of a strenuous life.
Walks with a cane. Lubricates
with marijuana for the pain.

Tully practices gentle optimism. A secret Samaritan.
When animals were drowning in the reservoir
while the town bickered, Tully under night sky
drove his truck to the gate, repaired the sagging fence.
Told no one but me. Now I tell you.

He evacuated his cabin when the mountain caught fire,
now lives with daughter and granddaughter
sharing Just So Stories with delight.
He’ll show her Mars and Moon tonight.

After surgery I’ll be turning cartwheels,
he says with a laugh. The joke is,
he’s built them in the past.
Entire carts. Built them by lamp light,
under the burning stars.

…..

First published in Monterey Poetry Review