reverie of the woodman

it seemed as though
the first bite
of the axe
a dream

not from the log
from the man

and through the next
as he swung
and struck


and struck

all the while
his cut billets
piling in an irregular
like a wall
that he was constructing

he drifted off
his thoughts
into a reverie
of the naked wood
all dressed

chopped and stacked
into neat rows
head height
and under cover
from the weather

of the lounge room
on a raining day
of bitter cold

the fire leaping
in the hearth
manic in a flickering
that was danced solely
for his contentment

and strike

a last slice
removed from the round
added to the wall
as he automatically
placed a fresh log
onto the block
and swung

and struck


Poem #482 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

8 thoughts on “ reverie of the woodman

  1. the rhythm is satisfying here, like the sounds of the axe striking the tree, then the relaxation of watching the flames dance. it’s also gruesome in a way, as it was the mutilation and burning of a living thing. sorry if that sounds morbid. it’s a dilemma i have with loving trees but then burning them in the wood burner

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I, too, like the rhythm of the poem reflecting the strokes of the axe. I also get into a bit of a reverie cutting wood, as I love the smell of it. When I was a child, my father used to do a lot with wood and I guess that rubbed off on me. And later I worked in a sawmill for some months (now that was hard work!) with the smell of freshly cut timber all around. I…hang on, I think I feel a poem coming on…

    Liked by 1 person

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