Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Where The Hammers Are

Her hammers, packed
In a potting shed, shimmed
In clothespin wedge and
Brick -- sledge, thick mallet,
A carpenter claw, all
Organized-- nothing stupid
About her box of hammers,
Or her.
On the other hand, mine
Are scattered all over,
Under ruins, sunken
Dikes, shattered steeples.
It's almost like we are
Two different people.


  1. Last line drew a breathless smile.

  2. Hello! Very nice blog and interesting posts, great atmosphere.
      Have a nice day. :)
    Welcome to our blog about photography. +
    I hope you also enjoy it with us.


    "Do what you love is not even that, but anyway"

  3. I've been exploring your blog and enjoying your poetry. The last line of this one is a gem!


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