Teen Poetry Contest Winner for 2008
Niles West High School, grade 11
He moves like my grandfather,
Having the grace of age,
With the crafting hands of Noah.
Given a gift by God,
I watch him at his craft,
Stripping away the rough bark.
Specks of dust flowing on the end of his breath.
Dust clouds that fell upon my skin,
With hope, that his skill will pass unto me.
I envy him at his work
As he cuts and strips the bark
Until it is smooth and then, He builds.
Finally reaching a perfection that I never believed in.
A masterpiece that is held together with
Metaphors and nailed with lines that
Speak for themselves.
I watched him at his love
Hands and mouth swirling
Against a sea of literature.
He sees his family in that wood
His steadfast devotion to a gift granted
He can see me.