Best Loggers Poems

It’s a romanticized picture
hanging on my dining room wall,
1907 lumberjacks,
one perched atop lumber stacked tall.

It’s winter, and they have a sled
pulled by two horses, looking bored,
twelve-foot pile of logs they pull,
one teamster with long reigns aboard.

It’s somewhere in the wilderness,
the nothing of northern New York,
four...

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