hard work

Weary, that pivotal point between fatigue and death
teetering
Push on with gritted teeth,
gritted so hard they may splinter,
Along with my sanity

Hands calloused, hardened like my smile
shins scabbed, bleeding
Ignore things not life threatening
can't stop, but must slow for the flesh is finite
limited

Hour upon indentured hour,
watching the saw dust plume and billow
The drone of the saw punctuated by high pitched screams
As board is separated, devoured by the blade

This is the theme music to my life,
Listening to the shrieking cries of aluminium,
The wounded sounds of rended wood
The high pitched hiss of scored glass,
The dull thunk as the score fractures

Yet all these cries and screams give birth to something else
The end result a satisfied smile at hard work rewarded
Tired eyes revel in creation