After Him, the Work

What's better to carve? Ask your father.

He used to know his way around woods,
Even though his task was turning out
Mechanical imitations, kitsch,
And ostentatious kitchen boredom.
He did try to paint. He tooled leather.
He tried to teach you glues and dowels,
The urgent, supreme parsimony
Of time wasted on double measures

To avoid wasting costly timber.
Like him, you wander too easily
Into familiar, showy habits
That only impress those with no craft
Who want to tell themselves, honestly
Or even dishonestly, you're good,
And they're discerning, so together
Everyone involved is important.
No one is important. Crafts erode.