by revbillcook

These were my father’s tools.

This is the tool box

he kept on a shelf

in the garage along with

old rags and loose hardware.

The day I left home

he gave them to me, smiling.

Said they were extra.

Thought I might need them

some day.

He laid the carpet

in my first apartment.

Used this carpet knife.

Trimming the edges just so.

A craftsman, proud of his work.

These were his screwdrivers.

I don’t use them often, but

Whenever I do

I remember that I touch

Some things he loved very much.