Your Tin Man

by John Nelson

You found me in the forest

where my axe was paused,

my chest ready to fill

like a can of preserves.

Apples and rhubarb

saved me. The rattle

and clank at the end of strings

on our wedding day

was music to my shining ears.

I’ll never use my camping cup

against the bars of our union.

No matter how hot the roof,

I’ll be the cat that calls

for you each night;

I’ll bleat my cheap toy trumpet

each morning for reveille.

I’ll be your steadfast soldier.

You’ll see the glinting star

on my chest where you

jammed my heart full.

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