The Smell of Sawdust

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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