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Found on last night’s walk,
trampled into the loose gravel
between road and field,
this screwdriver
with its battered blue handle
and its hard-earned philosophy
concerning the world’s obsession
with tightness, and battening down
anything that rattles.
Oh, the stories it could tell
if it would
of things it has bound together.
But it’s only interested in tales
of the work it loves best–
in fact, what brought it out traveling
on the road this very night—
Searching for something to loosen.

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