Beauty with Stories

It is slow work, restoration.
Slow and patient, the removal of layers,
with a light hand, one after the other,
never too much at once,
preserving the patina,
removing the wear, or at least the parts
that mar the surface, disguise it
with scratches and dirt.
The slow removal leaves you with decisions:
Always there are scars too deep

and you are faced with the choice
to sand away the deep scar, and with it the patina,
the honesty of age, or leave the mark,
allowing it to become part of the story,
part of the beauty, imperfect and wonderful.

Me? I leave the scars.
Perfection is overrated, but beauty,
with stories, never are.

About this poem.

A poem about refinishing furniture – something I have done a lot of in my day. And a poem about restorig a life. I’ve done a bit of that as well. Poetry is never about one thing.

The picture was taken on my back porch, as I refinished what is now my dining room table. Complete with scars.

Tom