FANFARE FOR THE COMMON TOOL

I salute you, tools in this abandoned
shed. You are mute testifiers to arms
and hands that held you, wielded you.

You, ax, who split apart the hearts of trees,
let air in to rings of years of growing, who
once did mighty cleavings, I salute you.

You, scythe, you of the long sweeping
arc of steel slashing, bringing down
stalks of wheat and weeds, I salute you.

You, spade, whose gift was for turning
earth, sliding smoothly underground to free
the deep down brown richness, I salute you.

You, rake, preparer of soils, you who
conquered clumps, transformed them into beds
where seeds could sleep, then stir, I salute you.

You, hammer, pounder of nails, founder
of floors, raiser of walls, hoister of beams,
joiner and fastener and keeper, I salute you.

And you other tools, whose names I do
not know, whose deeds were many
and great, who did what no man or woman

could have done alone, I see you
and acknowledge you. I thank you, praise
you for your work, your works. I salute you. All.