Stressed Wood

Painting by Barb McGee


Stressed Wood


stressed wood
the barn sixty years
& the holes in the bark the cut
that became a scar he rubs
when the winter carves
deeper into his hand
he tells the boy
in the air there
are no paths
it is bitter
this cold
secure in
what it
turns
& take
this hour
imperfect though
the measure of how
he walks off the fields
& thru the invisible door
place it in a long cupboard
painted blue without romance
this blood these bodies this light
he crouches behind the boy & points
a woodpecker he whispers the last one
& the boy remembers the scar on the hand
& how there was a smoke in the trees
& the sound of the deep snow
the windows darker
without panes


Richard Lance Williams

Posted over on More Poetry