Posted by: W. E. Poplaski | June 7, 2009

POEM OF THE DAY: The Builder

The Builder

Smoothing a cypress beam
With a scarred hand,
I saw a carpenter
In a far land.

Down past the flat roods                     5
Poured the white sun;
But still he bent his back,
The patient one.
And I paused surprised
In that queer place                            10
To find an old man
With a haunting face.

“Who art thou, carpenter,
Of the bowed head;
And what buildest thou?”                    15
“Heaven,” he said.


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