A New Violin

He
sits
before
the slant-light
in his shop, running
his fingers over the smooth wood,
feels the fine curves, the light traces of oil from the cloth
that stroked the length of this new instrument. He gazes at his row of tools, his table
soiled and scarred from work on projects of another time,
watches how the sun woos color,
renews his pleasure,
and he vows
to play
this
one.