Dying never / ends for us. It only slowly rearranges us, writes Steve Scafidi in his poignant new collection. Inspired by his own work as a cabinetmaker - defined by the peppery dust from the woodworker planing a walnut board, turning an oak spindle at the lathe, or honing chisels while gazing out a window - Scafidi's poems reveal both the tenuous and the everlasting nature of existence.
