WHITTLING HAIR PINS

Gather sticks
From cedar base
 
Break them into
Proper bends
 
Peel off bark
With long strong strokes
 
If I dare sand
Straight after that
 
I’ll coat the world
In your spice
 
Slowed down I stare
Into the more
 
Deliberate cuts
Release the last
 
Of incense layer
Expose bare flesh
 
Now may I sand
The grains reduce
 
Angles to curves
By turns slippery
 
Heat and a stone
To harden tip
 
Once clean and nude
Slide oil into
 
Your surfaces
To get that tone