The Craftsman
He mended shoes for a mere pittance
His payment was your smile
A craftsman from another age
Pride in his work his going wage
One morn his light was off, his door closed
His customers wept, understanding
Never again would they see his like
The call of his craft daily demanding…
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment