the axe will fall

the wood is soft
with
water, termites,
bugs
of all sorts
feasting on who knows
what.
they gnaw
like no tomorrow
at the old shed, musty
without light,
teetering,
the door loose
on its hinges,
the roof opened to
the rain.
eat now, I tell them.
go ahead
have your fun, your
day.
tomorrow the axe
will fall.