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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