CARVER’S SHED

Here was Spring flowering on a marble branch,

a lion yawning in Summer heat,

birds  pecking at stone berries,

alabaster dogs stretched at his feet.

Deaf and dumb, he had no language of his own,

but was shackled to this alphabet of stone, this gallimaufry  -

not unlike God himself.

A little man covered in dust (making a ghost of him before his time) wrestling with granite generals and marble maidens; working up a thirst, which he slaked over lengthy lunches, arriving back a little unsteady,

and

      (I imagine)

                         singing!

extended lunch  -

the statue

cross-eyed