Wood and poet
Wood
And then the tree of life splits
down its already weary trunk, struck
by the ax of an older woodsman
gathering bundles of sticks, mainly,
but as he came across this lonely
pine hobbled among the new growth,
he figured he could take on a log
or two, maybe impress his son in law
who usually brought in the heavier stuff
and show him those indifferent sparks
of life residing in his weary arms
which built that whole annex for the two of them.
--
Poet
(for MKM.)
Woodsman, poet, first to cry when tears already
streak the landscape, first to add his contribution.
Wide of heart, or rather, wide his heart's container,
molten glasses alloyed with the natural mica.