Rust Meets Wood

Butted flush - no width of blade

Could dare force rusty face apart.

Shaped by time and air that made

Resounding strength of lifeless art.

Hidden clues that used to show

The hands that placed these two as twain,

Worked to bone the end to know,

Yet, life commissions never gained.

Was a moment spared from start,

To note the price of wind and cold.

Is it solely nature’s part

Of worthy note this crude piece holds?

©Philip Holden

2003

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