The Last View

Pity the tired carpenter.

Two sentences, the second one stumbling along like a tired man, pacing the rush of hunger, hurried eating and falling asleep.

                The last View

               Some evenings
       I remember quite fondly.
          I often found myself
                 at the end of
            a full day’s labor of
      building, fixing and making,
            with my arms worn
               to harmlessness,
  a general exhaustion throughout,
           overlaying an appetite
                   for any food
                  in front of me
             followed shortly by 
        a hypnotic need for sleep
       that would sweep over me
                 and cause me,
                should I dawdle,
                 to lay my head
                just where I eat,
            a last close-up view
            of my fork and plate
              as my eyes close.

                   4/23-Cassis