Wood
Pete Mackey
What I have here, and maybe you too, could have been
mitered, drilled, and shaved; trim, beam, and jamb,
it is what you make of it. Timber laid low,
become frame, joist, floor. The house within the home.
Lit, blazing, and burned; fire, light, and ash,
giving its everything. Blossoming with buds and fruit,
finally returning a show. The difference time makes.
It surrounds us, growing, until felled and fashioned for use.
Not one thing but many. Softwood pulped at the end
to begin again as the blank thing ahead.