This is a chisel of precise age unknown
With handle smoother than the skin
Of a child. I have sharpened the blade
By rubbing it on stone. Feel its bite.
This is a wood plane given to me
By an old man who had it
From his father. Their spirits guide
My hands. Feel its weight.
This is a machine I bought myself
Under its skin of shiny plastic
Is an electronic brain. It can do
Almost everything. Don't go too close.