The Woodcarvers Palm Reading

It was a mistake to have picked up that chisel

I was tired with a great lack of sleep

My favorite tool was jagged, nicked and dull

And about to get in trouble deep.

But with nothing else I’d rather do

Carving was what I had planned

Down in the mess of my small workshop

I took that tool in fated hand

Carving Rules: First thing, stay alert

And keep all tools safe from harm.

My first clue should have been the blood

Which was dripping down my arm

At first I thought that all was well

Though I struggled with every chip

And it’s funny how I knew it was coming

Before I even felt the damned tool slip.

Today’s carving would be delayed

I’d put the chisel through my palm

And looking down on the ghastly sight

I wondered why I was so calm
twitching to and fro with my pulse

The chisel danced, as if to mock me

To leave it in or pull it out

Became a question of some urgency

Now what would you do if you were me

With a chisel stuck in your hand

Call for help, perhaps seek first aid?

But You’d have to be me to understand.

Of course, I pulled it out you see

And I bandaged my hand up good

Then I sharpened up my tool

And went back to carving wood.

It’s some years later now, though scarred

My hand has healed quite fine

The best lessons are born of tragedy

I now have an extended lifeline.

Maura Macaluso