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It only comes out when it rains
Prose or poetry
Profile avatar image for pretty_archaic
pretty_archaic

They Come Out of the Woodwork

His woodwork sits undisturbed,

Expensive, he sacrificed

Holidays, he gave his

Hours and sweat to craft these

Things, is all they are.

He never saw the rainy day

His wood box was covered

With a star-spangled bower,

And the five who knew him know

In a dark corner, sawdust

Gathers in his wrinkles.