Vol 3 No 1 2009
Into the Wood Chipper
The maple throws up its arms
in fright. Oh, it says with each
hack. Oh.
All the keys tossed
out over the years, potential
heirs –
all weeded out. The struggle, lately,
to stop the balding.
Oh, says the maple, the final
blow imminent. The wind
in the upper branches replies
Oh, take a bow.
Leigh Nash