He was tired of so many tools
to work his craft around town
He had to make a trunk
Much easier to carry around.
The first one was too small
The next one too big by far
His final version sits here now
It will barely fit into the car.
For years it served him well
Expanding as his practice grew
leather pouches for razor sharp chisels
Wood slots for his saws; just two.
The tools were gone forever,
The winter mice didn’t mind
They built their nests, quite happy
To share this historical find.
I could sell it now on ebay as
A victim of re-purposing’s curse
Or I could keep it here in the attic
To inspire new prose and verse.
William Kidder’s family may wonder
What became of Uncle Bill’s trunk
Perhaps they will find it now
when it sits next to more local “junk”
At The Lincolnville Historical Society
Visitors can delve into the past
A Kidder may see this piece here
And be pleased that it was able to last.
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