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The Buried Hatchets
Nobody ever forgets where he buried the hatchet. ~ Kin Hubbard
You bring the hatchet
each time
and you bury it deep.
Your friend is still your friend.
Many hatchets more with them
you will bury.
But each new time
they cut you with another hatchet,
it opens up old wounds.
Some cuts -
as deep as the holes
they were buried in -
take longer and longer
to heal.
One day you realize
the cuts of many hatchets
have not been healing nicely.
The blood you bleed
has left a trail.
You follow that trail
to the many other hatchets
you thought were so
well-buried.
Maybe you will hoist up those hatchets-
every last one of them -
and raise them high
above your head,
then bring them
down
once and for all
with all your might.
WHACK!
Then you can say
“You, my friend,
are dead to me.”
Oct. 15, 2020
N/A in the Quotable Poetry Contest
Copyright ©
Andrea Dietrich
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