SQN - Sine Qua Non - Issue 1 - Journal - Page 107
SINE QUA NON
D.C. Leach
Removing the Tree Stump from the Front Yard by Hand
Rain and rain and rain and on the seventh day
the clouds rest and mushrooms rise with the sun
from the cracks in the old maple stump old
for a man young for a maple tree aged nearly seventy
at seven feet wide I bring the pickaxe up
and over my head following one of many arcs
in the path of the sun maybe cutting against it
I pry it from the stump and swing it around my right side
behind my back up and over my head forward
until gravity takes over and I sink my hips into its fall
sliding my right hand from just behind the rusted head
down along the wooden haft until it meets my left
at the base accelerating the blunt blade of the pickaxe
back into the stump wow I can’t believe you’re doing that
a neighbor says I pry the pickaxe loose and bring it
around my left side and shave the sun again it cleaves
into the past funny how soggy it is I pry up bits
of old life strange how wooden they are how much like
mulch for the bushes you need a cold beer the woman
walking her dog says I swing and I swing a man
holding a gold medal stands in the street and watches me
it’s like your own Olympics he says I swing again
and again my shirt flies off my chest and belly
glowing white in the sun my hair now rippling
in the breeze that now gushes from the crater forming
in the old stump I can’t believe what you’ve done
I’m still swinging and panting the sun burning the skin
on my back every swing contradicting the motion
of the stars I can’t believe you haven’t thrown
your back out and you know you can rent a machine
for that I swing wood flies bag after bag of old life
dragged away life changes phases this state called
free mulch or kindling depending and is it the prying
of the stump that’s the writing of the poem or the filling
of the old hole with soil and seed the watering it deep
and the lancing of the blisters after?
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