Oak Floor

I am ten playing in my
Backyard making a play
House from scrap wood
Big enough for me to crawl
Around in and swinging on
A tire swing to cool myself
On a hot muggy afternoon,
My grandpa is half a century
Older than me as he tries to
Shape an oaken tongue in
Groove floorboard with an
Old saw struggling with it.
Grandpa is helping my dad finish laying an oak wood floor and
Is trying to shape the wood to
Fit an odd-shaped corner,
He calls me over to hold the
Floorboard on two sawhorses
While he saws but it is too flimsy.
My dad will not be home from
Work for several hours.
Grandpa’s temper is getting
Short and he gets two nails
And nails the floorboard to
The tree trunk to hold it steady,
I am shocked and say I am
Not allowed to nail anything
To a healthy tree trunk.
Grandpa looks at me and calms
Down saying this is work,
He shapes the floorboard with
The saw as no better tool is
Available and goes back
Into the house to fit it in
The odd-shaped corner.
I observe all this as I am
Shaped by the experience,
I learn that necessity limits
Our options and perseverance
Is the key to success even
If takes numerous attempts
And harms another sentient
Being, our big shade tree.
I have spent sixty-plus years
Since then being polite,
Persuasive and persistent,
And when necessary even
Wicked relentless.