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And then there was a pile of wood for which
I forgot him and let his little fear
Carry him off the way I might have gone,
Without so much as wishing him good-night.
He went behind it to make his last stand.
It was a cord of maple, cut and split
And piled—and measured, four by four by eight.
And not another like it could I see. . .
The wood was gray and the bark warping off it
And the pile somewhat sunken.
All images within these galleries are copyright of Janice Dunn, New Zealand
Jola Dziubinska | 13-Mar-2014 23:02 | |
Dawn Seitz | 12-Mar-2014 19:03 | |
Mieke WA Minkjan | 12-Mar-2014 06:11 | |
Stephanie | 11-Mar-2014 23:08 | |
Terry Sprague | 11-Mar-2014 14:21 | |
J. Scott Coile | 11-Mar-2014 14:08 | |
LynnH | 11-Mar-2014 12:15 | |
Zeeby | 11-Mar-2014 09:42 | |