
The Smell of Sawdust

This poem has finally found a home! It is one of my favourites, a poetic tribute to the abiding love my parents share, its tender roots. The Smell of Sawdust.
Written years ago and completed with the editorial suggestions of Kirk Miles, and now published in the WordCity Literary Journal, November 2021
the smell of sawdust
the smell of sawdust on his clothes
and in his hair and in his pores
the roughness of his hands
the breadth of his suntanned back
the darkness of his eyes under lashes thick
she pale and fair—hazel eyes, auburn hair
he profound, his proclamations meant to be absolute
she shrill and reigning over us nonetheless
the bathroom he built in the basement of our three-storey house
where so many rooms were just for company, just for show
he, my father, a deep pool
she a rushing torrent, a thunderstorm
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