Saw by Jan Wiezorek

He stood outside the stoop
to reveal himself as used,
wanting work, a saw
in the yard, jagged as jaws

& fierce whiskers. Denim
two sizes too large. Fabric
swaying, underneath
bones, & cotton under-

shirt, ribbed in sawdust.
This carpenter wanted
work & took hold
of a window, nailing it

shut. He bore openings,
& the woman birthed
in this shed where he
worked, supporting

walls, making a home,
teaching their son,
with wood & pain,
to become a saw

for poor, old souls.

# # #

Jan Wiezorek writes from Barron Lake in Michigan. He has taught writing at St. Augustine College, Chicago, and his poetry has appeared or is forthcoming at Caesura (Poetry Center San José), The London Magazine, Sweet Tree Review, Yes Poetry, L’Ephemere Review, among others. He also writes about unsung heroes for The Paper in Buchanan, Michigan, and did so formerly as a freelancer for the Chicago Tribune. Jan holds a master’s degree in English Composition/Writing from Northeastern Illinois University, Chicago.

Photo: Volodymyr Hryshchenko