- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Chopping Wood
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dedicated with love to my Dad
the Warmly dressed provider
(cold azule sky above)
taking a broad, relaxed stance
(watched by adoring eyes of mutts)
his hands solidly spread
(before and after Augustus and Auschwitz)
lifts up axe-bit high behind him
(in Africa, China, or Pennsylvania)
guides gravity downward with powerful grace
(a prayer or quantums crackling?)
the blade finds the previous split
(a wife is chopping carrots for lamb stew)
two halves soaring apart
(nearby pine roots drink)
feels fleeting pride in his art
(a herd of wild hooves patter up a nearby hill)
places another stout round on the haggard chopping block
(he may know Plato and Shakespeare,
be a devotee of Neruda,
or have heard a few Confucian proverbs from a learned friend
to whom he gives wood)
- COMMENTS
LeBrozabout 17 years agoThese parenthetical asides or private thoughts would best be presented in italicized font; easily done even in pure text cut-and-paste submissions.
