Ode To A 12-Pound Hammer

This ode to a 12-pound hammer tells of how much I value this simple tool. It served me well over the years and deserves a rest.

Swing That Hammer

Ode To A 12-Pound Hammer

I will set aside my 12-pound hammer
And I will give it a rest—not abandon it.
I will honor and savor this friend
It has served me well and diligently
Obeyed my every swing

My home and my family
Have been warmed by the firewood
Protected from the ice and snow
The wind and the rain
Many loads trundled in

And head of good tool steel
With its long handle of hickory
Watched it flash and slam into the work.
Split the log and drove home the wedge.

Bullets of steel from the wedge
Left home and spiraled into space
Hot projectiles, they flew
Striking concern for my legs and head

Now my grip is of an old man.
Not as strong and not as sure
The hammer is heavy
The day is long.

I swing with my might
You land, not so strong
Though you try.

Like an old horse put to pasture
I will let you rest in peace
Anxious to move—and willing
You need a steadier hand.

Be humble in your pride.
Gentle in your rest
Wait for another to grip
And grunt and groan

You and I are Artifacts
We are from the past
But are in the present.

You may be melted down
And be part of a mighty dozer
Or an army tank
The future will tell the story
Only the present is known
Prey that you will stand proud

I too will pass
To grow mighty trees
Or birds or bees

Long live the king and I

Retiring The Hammer