Tuesday, June 14, 2011

lost & found poetry

we had a call a few nights ago from a local charity getting together a crew to work on a habitat for humanity house and it reminded me of another recently found poem.


It's snowing.

In the slow snow

the clack and crack of crowbars and hammers,

the scrape of shovels against charred wooden floors,

and the conversation of carpenters

discussing the builder's lack of technique

and watching the clean-up kid

scrambling around in the dumpster

like a monkey in the jungle.

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