all day he carves.
whittles
down
the fallen tree into smaller
things.
a broom
handle.
a duck.
a pipe to blow his
smoke out
of.
the knife and hands
blur as one.
the debris
of cast away timber,
sawdust
rises at
his feet.
at the end of the day
he will be
done, for now.
tomorrow another tree
comes down.
Thursday, October 27, 2016
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment