A man is chopping wood on a stump.
His hands steady the wood
and then with an ax he swings downwards,
The wood breaks from the force
splitting into two pieces.
Then the man continues the pattern.
Now the routine becomes mindless,
all muscle memory, no thought.
He pauses, then shakes,
not allowing what's clinging to him to stay.
A few more forceful swings of the ax,
the wood cracks into two
The man pauses once more.
He shakes again but to no avail,
this is clinging to him.
The ax drops from his hands
But the man doesn't notice.
He is just staring at the wood.
Perhaps what plagues him is maybe more
complex than wood
would ever hope to be?
He's sitting now
he's shaking too.
He is grabbing at his hands and his face,
his chest and his stomach,
his legs and his... feet.
How did we not notice?
An ax fallen blade-down
did not sink into the ground,
but into his foot.
The agony he must be feeling right now!
Wait, he's no longer shaking?
His pale hands pull the ax out of his foot,
the blood is slowly oozing out.
He stands up slowly,
grabs a piece of wood,
and swings his ****** ax,
The wood splits in two even pieces
falling on either side of the stump
and the man continues
making equal amounts of the same thing
on other side
with his ****** ax in the middle
letting his muscle memory take over
I have a plan to write 26 poems, A to Z in the next 26 days. Hopefully I can stick to that plan. I like challenging myself to do something so this should be fun. If anyone else wants to do the same, by all means, go ahead. :)