An honest person knows truth
is laid like a plain board
sighted for length
and planed to make smooth,
uses a thumb not upwards
for approval or down for reckoning
but slipped along the wood
with eyes closed to catch
a sliver or spur until no mars remain,
that not with effort but with ease,
not with buck and split
but with acceptance of the original grain
groomed like a horse,
whispered to in patience.
About the Poet
Jeff Burt lives in Santa Cruz County, California, and works in mental health. He has contributed to Heartwood, Sheila-Na-Gig, Williwaw Journal, Red Wolf Journal, and Clerestory. He won the 2017 Cold Mountain Review Poetry Prize.
Vita Brevis Press 