Love is this broken edge –
that everyone feels is a flaw.
In one sense, it is:
a spot you can't polish,
that will never be perfect.
In one sense it is.
Buyers hate the broken edge –
but every craftsman knows:
that is where
the paint holds,
that is where
the glue soaks in.
And that is where you see –
on an old chair, a bed frame
“This is pine” or
“This is fiberboard”
or “This is maple
with poplar underneath.”
“This will hold” or “This will
break”
or “This is worth cleaning off the
pigeon
shit and green dust; this is worth some
sanding and varnish; this is
a table to set your
children around.”
Love is this broken edge
that you will always run your finger
over because it is not
so smooth. That is how
you find your
chair in the dark.
No comments:
Post a Comment