The Tools Are Simple
The tools are simple.
The best ones at least.
They fit just so in your hand.
There is heft in them, just a bit more weight
than is common now.
There is texture and a sense of forever in them,
a sense of generations who have found them forever useful.
The work, granted, goes slower.
They lack the power of electricity and generations of engineering.
They force you to think each step through.
The tools are simple
and the things they build are simple and strong and true.
They last, over-engineered rather than to perfect tolerances
with no room for error.
They become history,
and worth every minute
for just that reason.
About this poem.
True of tools. More true of life. So much of the tried and true, really is. We relabel it, repackage it, learn more about it, and times try to replace it with the fad of the hour.
But in the end, the simple truths of how to live life, persist.