Found Boards
They were never meant to be seen.
Planks from a construction site — split, stained, stepped on,
bearing the weight of boots, mud, and indifference.
Discarded before they had a purpose,
or perhaps after it had already been exhausted.
Their surfaces carry accidents: scratches that resemble wounds,
marks that echo gestures, traces that refuse to disappear.
Taken from the ground and lifted into stillness,
they begin to resemble something else —
not by design, but by insistence.
Faces emerge where none were intended.
Silence gathers where noise once lived.
What was walked over is now looked at.
What was thrown away is now held upright.
Not sacred by origin —
but by survival.
