Cracker-Barrel Sage

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There are so many inordinate ways history repeats itself.

Cracker-Barrel Sage The whittler Atop the rickety steps Shavings piled at her ancient feet Eyes the blade Needing attention soon The mongrel Head on paws Yawns One eye open Watching chips fall Wondering Why whittle Worries Boredom Purpose Dust swirls gritty remembrance Tumbleweeds careen Weathered saloon sign dangles Jailhouse door swings aimlessly Both hinged with rust of the past Wind stops Silence A canine's whimper A whittler's sigh Eroded stick now a toothpick Whetstone works the blade A foreshadowing gust turns page Beckoning next chapter's portent Prophetic air anxiously awaiting Yesterday's memory Today's forever cycle Whittler laments knowingly

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