the carpenter cultured

a heavy salt and pepper
moustache
and a goatee;
and those thick forearms,
and tree-trunk thighs,
cracked knuckles,
scars,
and white-creviced,
dry skin --
not one of them belie
the carpenter's trade,
as he sits at the lunch counter;
and that tough, clipped
staccato of New England
that whispers "wick-ed"
even if he does not --
and yet when his
cup o' joe arrives,
he sips gently,
pinkie, extended.



March 4, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.