Tombstones and Toolboxes
by Fred Voss
In the corner of our machine shop behind a 10-ton press
sits Howard’s toolbox
a toolbox Howard got from an old sailor 45 years ago
a beautiful hand-made toolbox made of hand-fitted pieces of wood without one nail
in it
a and a sunflower carved into its center front wooden drawer and painted yellow
6 years ago Howard retired at age 75
but still the toolbox sits
where he left it
on a steel cart and wrapped in clear plastic sheets
like any day Howard
might return to make that one special $30,000 aircraft part only he could make
one more time
and now we hear from the office that Howard died
and still Howard’s wooden toolbox with the sunflower carved into it
sits there
like it is too beautiful to roll away
still it sits
in its corner like a wooden tombstone grave
as if Howard’s tools inside were Howard’s bones
and I think
how when I finally retire with sore bones at age 75 or 80
I’ll drive my toolbox home
and place it in my garage with all its tools inside it
to preserve it
I have a wild dream
someday after I’m long gone my words will be world famous
and in a world of artificial intelligence and robots people will travel
thousand of miles to a museum
to open my toolbox drawers
and feel my tools
in the flesh of their palms and remember
me
a human being
who made poetry out of nuts and bolts and worm screws and vise jaws
in the days
when men still made this world
with their hands.
Image above: People Take Turns to Do the Difficult Jobs, by Chad McCail
