Take me into the tool shed to grab an axe
We’ll walk our days through the tender woods
The crackle of leaves and cracking branches falling beneath our feet
Cutting only the proper tree
The one who waits
You’ve seen here stand lonely by the tapering stream
“Timber!”, we yelled
With no one around
What’s the point when her limbs hit the ground.
Just to sit by her grave when we burn her;
Ashes into the ground.
