Craft carving with fancy on the plain
held in the hand of sleight
knows how to shape
the seasoned stock of need to grave delight.
Often I've seen you make,
by carving a needful sourwood walking stick,
a spiraling snake.
Wrought out of my gnarled grief by that same trick,
these poems are a copperhead cane.
from Copperhead Cane, 1964©