changing of the seasons
back in the day
haircuts cost a nickel
and most working men kept
shotgun or two out back
don’t make me go out
to the shed
he would often say
but nobody knew exactly
what that meant
boys learn to chop wood
before snow ever falls
piling stacks upon stacks
attempting to stay
two steps ahead of winter
january two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Thumbs up for the audio.
Thank you very much.
Agree with Ankit!
Thank you, dear.
I remember when I chopped wood like that…
yes, and so do I
I absolutely adore how disjointed the stanzas are, but still, how connected.
I swear, it just floors me that I don’t really know what you’re trying to say. I keep reading and reading, trying to get inside your head. But I feel like you’re trying to keep me out — just straight up describe things.
Like, what do snow and winter represent to you personally? I can only guess. And I love that!
I have a love/hate relationship with winter and deep deep cold (not so much snow). Thanks for sharing your thoughts on this poem.
don’t make me go out
to the shed
he would often say
but nobody knew exactly
what that meant
This scared me to death….fantastic write.
Didn’t mean to scare you but thank you.