From scrap windows buried in a barn to chalk boards, framed maps, and mercury glass prettiness.
Some are out of pallet boards and some are out of cabinet doors. The handles are all salvaged. With a little work, some paint, and some character those things take on a new life.
So many shapes, sizes, and colors. So little time.
I remember how proud he was
Of his little patch of garden
Red with tomatoes
And his old work boots
Planted with pansies
And I wonder if he watched a last sunset
Before he died
Alone on a bathroom floor with a knife and a needle
And I wonder if there was
Anything else I could have done
But I’ll never know now
And I hope someone else
Remembers him for more than his mistakes
Because that isn’t all he was