Wax warms on wool cloth slow
Night air holds a sodium glow
Brush strokes follow worn-in seams
Quiet work in borrowed dreams
Thread pulls through the split hide
Each pass draws the dark inside
Needle sings a low lullaby
Shine returns on patient time
Buffing the night to morning sheen
Leather drinks the circle clean
Neon hums on parking stone
Cobbler works his hands alone
Heel taps wait on rubber soles
Porch light flickers overhead poles
Moths trace circles round the sign
Grain absorbs the turpentine
Thread pulls through the split hide
Each pass draws the dark inside
Needle sings a low lullaby
Shine returns on patient time
Buffing the night to morning sheen
Leather drinks the circle clean
Neon hums on parking stone
Cobbler works his hands alone
Awl punctures the thickened skin
Breath held where the repairs begin
Pegs driven deep in maple block
Dust settles on the wall clock
No congregation calls his name
Just asphalt cooling after rain
But holiness in calloused palm
Writing psalms with wax and balm
Buffing the night to morning sheen
Leather drinks the circle clean
Neon hums on parking stone
Cobbler works his hands alone
Dawn bleeds blue through motel blinds
Last coat catches new day lines
Box packed tight with finished pairs
Scent of hide and answered prayers
Buffing the night to morning sheen
Leather drinks the circle clean
Neon hums on parking stone
Cobbler works his hands alone
Buffing the night to morning sheen
Leather drinks the circle clean
Hands remember every worn seam
Breath finds the grain in morning light
