true story.

__There was a man in a woodshop
Carving little indians
Rearranging the world
__He smiled like cotton
And I had forgotten
The big star cooking me
__His freckles danced
Like sea monkeys in space
His history
I can only dream to trace
__He gently laid in my hands
A crinkled plastic bag
Cradling wood scraps
Like babies
__Giants take care of babies
Mountains are lifted by trees
__In the voice of a young boy
He whispered to me
‘I hope you can use these
I think you might need them’
__I’ve been saving these scraps for years
You seem like you need them.