Summer morning before the heat
wipe the wood down
get rid of the sanding dust
leaving the alder baby-bottom smooth.
Natural bristle brush leaves no streaks
drops no stray fibers into the oil.
Slather it on, then a bit more
where it's already sinking into the wood.
Pungent varnish smell brings back
childhood memories with my dad
puts a wistful smile on my face.
Set the timer for thirty minutes and wait.
Watch the golden liquid seep in,
Creep inside the pores, deep inside
strengthening, protecting, glistening softly
hoping for a deep natural glow.
Hoping for not a fake-y plastic
high-gloss glassy mirror-like finish,
but just a gentle sheen bringing
out the natural beauty of the wood.
And then a bump in the road.
Wipe it dry after thirty minutes,
uh-oh, very tacky, impossible to wipe
fibers from the cut-up t-shirt
stick to the wood. Damn!
Good thing I started on the underside
of the bed frame, a piece of plywood.
Will let it dry for a while more and
then try and figure out what to do next.
-- To be continued --
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