by benduhamel

Wet leaves and fresh cut wood,
Autumn wind carrying the smell of chainsaw oil,
Cord wood piled high,
The swift crack of an axe splitting logs,
To split wood requires an axe to rise
And an axe to fall
To be free requires the axe to rise
And the axe to fall
No matter the season,
Not me, us.
Categories: ben duhamel, creative, November 3, 2020