Giving Up On A Poem

Sometimes the grain is simply wrong
On every stroke
The spokeshave catches
The knot that just won’t move
And drags into precious, wanted wood

Deeper than planned
Thinner than hoped
Rough and splintered
Where I’d dreamt soft, sensuous curves

What happens next will tell
The scrap bin?
The fireplace?
A door stop?
Or just a poem, 
With a knot in it?

JWW
5/5/2016