Tools

The curious dormant nature of tools becoming more than themselves in their quick and singular way of performing: Snowshoes making the body's weight a lie over twenty foot drifts-web-footed again I get to the river where the fishing rod asleep in its limber length jumps suddenly alive when the fish´s strike leaps right into my hands. Idle on the back porch the shovel´s angle is to the point in its way of getting under the surface. Through use its handle is turning to harder wood from layers of petrified sweat and the bridle hangs stiff on a nail saving the shape of the mare´s head, remembering a mouth. Red and silver rainbow trout freeze on the snow as the sun goes down and the hot- tempered ax head caught in the tightening grip of the cold finally gets its crack at a tree limb. Later the castiron woodstove gathers to itself all the heat it can handle. Smoke rises up to the cold night´s crisp stars, impalpable almost as words but which in their right use still have their way of getting us through to the world alive for a moment.