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