Coffee cups, brown glaze on white,
stand along the bench.
Spilled liquid leaves clumps of grey sawdust
around unfinished work.
The tools are dull,
and I have sat on my crooked stool for hours
trying to think of mirror designs.

A friend comes by to see how the work goes,
to share new books,
to drink tea from an ivory cup.
I pick up a slipstone,
and we whisper through the afternoon.

:: Carol Cox, Woodworking and Places Nearby (1979)

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