The first cut is brutal
always deep with cold
blade tearing into timber
opening a pathway
for subtler strokes
slicing with sharpness,
carving strongly,
the base for intricate designs
on blocks gripped tightly
in the jaws of steel vices
The last cut is gentler
a loving after thought
adding a signature
to shaped and shaved fibres
decorating with care
completed artistry
the chisel held lightly
like a violin bow
in the closing movement
of a great concerto.
David Subacchi
Wrexham
Wales (UK)
david.subacchi@tiscali.co.uk
Friday, 3 April 2015
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1 comment:
Lovely emotion in this poem.
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