May 13, 2009
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I sit underneath an old evergreen tree,

Strong and tall-coated in a heavy moss.

I look out, vast horizon is all I see.

The tall trees shimmer, as if under gloss.

I grab my axe, and I begin to hack,

chopping away at the heavy evergreen.

I carry the weight of the woods on my back.

The forest waves to me, as I leave the scene.

I am now driving the great evergreen log

winding around the turns, I trust the river.

Riding the rapids, I exit the forest fog.

What Joy! To return, logs to deliver.

At home, I sheath my axe, done with the day.

Lying in bed, I know life is okay.

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