makes his art from pieces of bark
that have fallen from trees,
charring the wood
to highlight the tracks 
termites and other insects 
have carved pulp side,
the roundabout path
of a cartoon rabbit
or the squiggle a child
might make with crayon 
on a placemat
while waiting for her dinner.

He says the curves and curls and loops
are emblematic of our lives,
a mirror to our retraced steps,
our double-backs, our starts and stops.

He sells his art at small street fairs —
on a good day a jagged line of patrons — 
twenty bucks a pop.