The Chainsaw

This is a strange
place of
chain saws and
woodsmoke, of
Rick Afire! caravans
wooden awnings
and fires, I am
at ease in this
place - an old
chair mottled
sky and sun
trying to push through.  I am
told I have
wise eyes, my
forever expression
deep blue.  The
chainsaw agrees -
rasping the air
with metal teeth -
all it does
is chew.
Collected Works
Return to Collections all
next poem