The floorboard groans
Nail heads at uneven heights
Poking out to claw into the errant piece of skin that chooses to graze in its path.
Arranged in haphazard order
No symmetry
Each squawk of wood’s lament
Each one, not the same as the last
No pattern
Except the guaranteed
display of sound,
Acknowledging the discontent
at the point of impact.
