Following the Grain

The speckled path traces a line

on which patina time will mark.

A clock that chimed important hours,

observing prayers and reading page;

from clammy palms timidly stretched

for reading creases, forward years.

A pared wood cup sweat globule-dripped,

then swirled with mead drained servant poured;

silver, planished, the hand-made sign,

left marks from hall, and sterling wine.

Apprentice piece, held journeyman,

a proof of travel with the joints;

two drawers matched stored marriage wraps,

their waist-let prompting wedding banns.

A cradle rocked white knuckled hands

to dampen cries of father, child;

a beam above smoke inglenook,

hot conversations with less light.

The treasure chest of daughter’s curl,

unlocked, but key of memory;

a truckle bed rolled out of site

that caked boots trod mud, bakers punched.

A varnish of flight pheromones,

more tears, some blood, flaked skin, hut dust,

capped steam from pots, seepage from pores;

ingrained, embedded, history sealed.