Man the Toolmaker
Man the toolmaker, tooluser,
son of the burning quests
fixed with roaming forearms,
hands attached to the forearms,
fingers put on those hands,
a thumb to face any finger—
hands cunning with knives, leather, wood,
hands for twisting, weaving, shaping—
Man the flint grinder, iron and bronze welder,
smoothing mud into hut walls,
smoothing reinforced concrete into
bridges, breakwaters, office buildings—
two hands projected into vast claws, giant hammers,
into diggers, haulers, lifters.
The clamps of the big steam shovel? Man’s two hands:
the motor hurling man into high air? man’s two hands:
the screws of his skulled head
joining the screws of his hands,
pink convolutions transmitting to white knuckles
waves, signals, buttons, sparks—
man with hands for loving and strangling,
man with the open palm of living handshakes,
man with the closed nails of the fist of combat—
these hands of man—where to? what next?
by Carl Sandburg
From Harvest Poems— 1910-1960
Harcourt Brace, 1960
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