Things said
When I was young, my father said:
That words come with the craft
That poetry was metalwork,
A shaping and
A learned trade
That time gave skill to the hand.
He told me
To look for metal on the ground as I walked
To stop at fire sales
And flea markets
For the undervalued.
To see the
Done in the undone
To force a fit if needed
To take dominion
And make over
In my image.
To make the should
From what would.
When my father was old, he said:
That words could only be found and uncovered
And lightly polished.
That the finding was the craft
And a different strength was needed to see.
That truly skilled hands
Were only to let go with.
That words look best
In the places where you found them.
Mike Brady 2005
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