Feck that!
Posted: Sun Nov 17, 2019 8:01 pm
In a shed, concealed
under the Western Red Cedar deck
I build 20 years ago,
spiders hang or cling prolific.
Cotton sacks bulge and decorate
this damp, rotting nursery.
Offspring to continue the lineage, or
in leaner times, to consume.
I should tear the whole thing down
but a supporting deck beam collapsed,
and rests on a roof
which already aches
under its own weight.
A civilisation's destiny awaits my decision.
Most will perish in the shed's dismantling
and possibly mine
under several tons of wood
if, in the process, other beams fail.
Above, on my once beautiful deck
a garden table lists hard to port.
To a stranger, sitting in our kitchen
it might appear strange,
and it does.
But I've become fond of it all,
this process, the dismantling
tempered by observations
that suggest I should
listen to the other voices
that scream more in unison
as I age...
'Feck that!'
under the Western Red Cedar deck
I build 20 years ago,
spiders hang or cling prolific.
Cotton sacks bulge and decorate
this damp, rotting nursery.
Offspring to continue the lineage, or
in leaner times, to consume.
I should tear the whole thing down
but a supporting deck beam collapsed,
and rests on a roof
which already aches
under its own weight.
A civilisation's destiny awaits my decision.
Most will perish in the shed's dismantling
and possibly mine
under several tons of wood
if, in the process, other beams fail.
Above, on my once beautiful deck
a garden table lists hard to port.
To a stranger, sitting in our kitchen
it might appear strange,
and it does.
But I've become fond of it all,
this process, the dismantling
tempered by observations
that suggest I should
listen to the other voices
that scream more in unison
as I age...
'Feck that!'