daybreak
chill and bleak

this dead thing
washed up on the shore

cast amongst carnage
dried bleached
debris of life
laid to rest

noticed
from the corner of her eye
lifeless in the dry tangle
she called her dog nearer

grit in her nails
on hands and knees
breaking away the confines
scrapping the form free
she lifted and carried it home

placing carefully
on the work bench
her imagination set sail
drifting over seasoned wood

hands smoothing
sanding
working with the grain
till her fingers trailed over chiseled features
the art of her creation