Wood-Carver Poem by John Grey

If I weren't carving,

I’d be doing nothing.

My life would be

this solid block of wood.

The knife puts years

on either side of me.

It brings me to this moment.

It lets me live on in something 

you'll someday hold in your hand.

I make shapes to get shape out of me.

I cut through this wood

where the surface

screams loudest,

where the inside

hungers most to be.

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in New Plains Review, Perceptions and the anthology, No Achilles with work upcoming in Big Muddy Review, Gargoyle, Coal City Review and Nebo.