The Saw That Separates
Use 3 or more words in a poem
1. Bow
2. Lean
3. Park
4. Saw
5. Tear
6. Wound
The Saw That Separates
Saw in hand, my tight grip pushes,
teeth bite into fragrant pine.
They tear at the wood like your
sharp words wound my heart.
I lean into the work as I try
to erase you from my thoughts.
The pain worsens as the saw cuts deeper, and I
must bow to the inevitable.
I can’t forget the last time in the park
our heat and fire boiled over.
Anger replaced love, we separated forever
just as the saw separates the pine.
Copyright © Oliver Mckeithan | Year Posted 2023
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