Tinker Poem by Adrian Flett

Itinerant tinkers seek the broken pot
carpenter the rotten doorway.
Bees fill the empty comb
ants repair the home.
All seek the emptiness.
The void is what we seek
so don't avoid the void.


If pots and pans were poems
then a tinker I would be,
to bring out the hidden word,
beat, bend, patch, tease it free.
As a tinker tinks so a writer thinks,
never truly content ‘till all is
burnished bright, or cast aside.