Tool Man

Painting by Frans Mortelmans


TOOL MAN


for Joe Moos


His hands are hammers, chisels,
pliers

With his ladder he becomes tall
like a giant

Watch him take the ladder from the truck
watch the ladder unfold
watch his legs stretch ten feet tall

He has a leather vest with seventeen pockets,
places he can put the tools
so they are part of his body
like his hands, fingers
his opposable thumb

And today is the coldest Halloween
in history
in the history of weather
so he has gloves, boots,
a thick winter coat
with a hood that hides his hair

He is strong
look at his eyes
hot like stars
he could have been burned ten centuries ago
he would not have cried out

All I can give him is good coffee
all I can give him are these weak words

When he comes in and we drink coffee
when we perform this intimate breakfast ritual
this unrecognized religious act
he asks me questions
and when he speaks
I am whole again
I am beautiful I remember
my secret divinity
he is always able to do this

This is no priest no
man of the cloth
no druid no shaman

only a man with tools
who comes to fix me
fix my house
close the windows to keep out the cold


Richard Smyth

Posted over on Anabiosis Press