"...sawdust coming from under the saw or soft yellowish shavings from a plane." These words immediately transported me to my father's shed and treasuring the ordinary in that sacred space.
This poem from an Estonian poet-- at first I expected it must be exotic in some way. But it was simply a poem, a lovely one, but simply a poem. Thank you for sharing it and having it inspire me to think about what's ordinary and what is not.
Love this poem, Ruth - not only because of the imagery and beautiful emotion behind it, but because my poem today references sawdust, as well - the kind that used to waft through the air when my father would craft his carved wood signs. Thanks for sharing this!
♥️ Love! ♥️
ReplyDeleteIt is always those little things! Thanks, Ruth!
ReplyDeleteAh, but poetry provides refuge for unreal times, thanks Ruth.
ReplyDeleteWow! Such a beautiful poem! From a sugarcane field in Fiji to the handkerchief.
ReplyDelete"...sawdust coming from under the saw
ReplyDeleteor soft yellowish shavings from a plane."
These words immediately transported me to my father's shed and treasuring the ordinary in that sacred space.
What a wonderful poem, Ruth. I hope you are staying strong.
ReplyDeleteI love this poem.
ReplyDeleteThis poem from an Estonian poet-- at first I expected it must be exotic in some way. But it was simply a poem, a lovely one, but simply a poem. Thank you for sharing it and having it inspire me to think about what's ordinary and what is not.
ReplyDeleteLove this poem, Ruth - not only because of the imagery and beautiful emotion behind it, but because my poem today references sawdust, as well - the kind that used to waft through the air when my father would craft his carved wood signs. Thanks for sharing this!
ReplyDelete