Masterwood! Do not be so hard upon yourself!
You cannot be held responsible for every hammer on your good friend’s shelf.
Nor for his thick-wooded table, nor his ochre rug, so dingy and bare,
Nor for his hands stretched high upon the wall,
Nor for the quiver in his underwear.
Not for the cushion of his cheek which rested on the wall’s off white paint.
Nor for the single tear he cried, nor for the Chinese tear stain.
Masterwood! You are FAR too hard on yourself!
Why, Masterwood is just like everyone else!
Wearing your favorite khaki pants and thrusting
your hands deeply in them. Strolling in the woods
behind your house and letting the breeze blow through them.
You think of a lot of poetry. You have lots of things that you do.
So, Masterwood, let the boy fend for himself- just give him
a smile when you’re through.