Hundreds of orders behind but never
never
never
Never quite
out of business. I cut my finger often
but my carvings are cut, always
must be.
I owe the people wooden hearts
to call their own.
And I owe myself a living,
living with clocks and statues and cabinets
for some purpose
known by God.

You were beautiful when you had shadows around you
and even more so you were beautiful

When you were honest


Like only the way a statue could be honest

Beautiful
and honest
and cold
and steadfast

That is just precisely what you were


Like a cold, barren, stone state of being