A job all too familiar done regardless of weather
Splitting Firewood
Funny how snow falls in so many ways
Big flakes little pellets sleet and so on
Today the logs snow covered for days
Are awaiting my splitting axe at dawn
This morning the snow’s in pellet form
Dry and fine like grains of sand
The splitting block ancient worn
Sits waiting for a mittened hand
The spitting axe swung high and hard
On dry sawn logs of last year’s cut
They crack and split across the yard
While snow pellets fly like crystal dust
Poetry by josephus
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Written on 2021-01-05 at 23:49
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Lawrence Beck |
AFRODITE STATHI |