He was precise in all his measurements.
The fence posts dug each exactly the distance
Between his five-year-old thumb and
Index finger
That was then, half the length
Used to calibrate the span,
Intentionally cockeyed, splaying out
From dormer to dormer, giving houses
A somewhat exotic look.

The sheep walked on water.
The hot-air contraptions hung
Precariously, millimeters from the tree tops.
A left-over, rickety subway car tried its rail song.
Dinosaurs romped with cows.
Chicken roosted on the tiptop of Deco Skyscrapers.
Underpasses overpassed
Inpasses and outpasses
Each unique, invented with superb, whimsical skill.

Trains skipping above valleys
Over rusty trestled tracks.
This would be Thomas’s world,
His master production,
A Happening, by chance.
An ultimate gift to humankind.

How and why?

What he found one eerified morning,
When he awoke
Was He was alone.
All friends, family, kin, feline pets gone.
Gone.
Leaving a graceless, unexpected emptiness at
His school, playground, and zoo.
Silent streets, empty stores, crop-less farms.

After a silent sob,
And a tear, fast-shed, by one not yet six,
Shaken,
He gathered his tools.
Determined, he collected his thoughts,
Once random, now inspired by his inner wisdom,
Thomas, began a world anew.

Hoping to find others; five or six-year olds,
Looking to hire a master builder to
Turn the world right,
To re-spin the globe on its sorry axis,
This time, built by a Master
True, faithful, human, humble of intent.

His bridges and roads, he’d ready to welcome
Road-weary travelers,
Half-grown explorers,
Left-overs from a time gone wrong.

He would invite them
To sit down, to settle, to carve out a new life.
No more hunger, or thirst, no more woe.
A place to go, to love, to know.
Thomas, The Master Builder’s World.

Charlene James-Duguid Amissville, Virginia April, 2020