What disappears
when an eight-foot plank
is sawn in half, yielding
two less-than-four-foot boards,
a solid term for what’s lost
to the teeth of separation.
Neither sawdust nor error,
nor the labor of gremlins
waiting to wreak havoc
on perfectly accurate
Kerf—you will know it
by its absence,
like divided attention.
Small consolation:
each board as it’s halved
releases both sides
of a single scent,
limewood for linden,
pine for pine.