Michael's Fáilte

Welcome to these writing warmups, blatherings, rantings, meditations, perorations, salutations, latest and those on time, those narrative, declarative, interrogative, gollywogative and other outdated, belated, simulated musings, perusings, shavings and other close calls, with no disrespect intended, that's why no real names included whenever impossible to avoid the guilt that came in the crib for uttering something that would hurt or injure those in authority, being of everlasting servitude to all and sundry, having chosen the road not taken and the frost on the pumpkin long before the kettle turned black or the cat found its own tail fascinating,
Your humble servant, etc.

The island writes in fire and steam each morning on the pages of the sea

The island writes in fire and steam each morning on the pages of the sea
Lava Meets Ocean. Lynx, Starboard Side. Day 2.Early Morning, July 8 2006, Looking for Flashes off Chain of Craters, Big Island

Monday, October 10, 2011

The Perfect Cut

There at the keen edge her eyes
split with nowhere to look
but either side when all along
it's the space between enticing her
that place of emptiness that fills
with her concentration and skill
as she brings her well-honed steel
into the decision to change beech
oak maple walnut doug fir or
mesquite into beams walls
windows openings closings floors
ceilings knowing full well how
taking away creates a full house
although few will ever know how
precision and exactitude
calibrate themselves in the heart
of the carpenter named Katie

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