Sal stared hopelessly at his hands.
Splinters like roots in each crease,
it seemed like the past few hours
were the only ones that existed.
The hickory of the handle
gave with the life of the pine
when he was blind in a pursuit
shorter than any reason.
What had he even been hacking at?
Sal wilted, weaker than his impulse,
still coming up with nothing
falling farther from what he knew.
His curiosity grew taller than committedness.
Not even in the sawdust could he see it all.