Up until a few months ago I had no chainsaw.
I still cut wood though. Sawed posts
and beams split into rails
with a rusted, red-painted bow saw
and small arsenal of ax heads on cracked handles.
I even cut down a couple trees that were huge to me.
Others might call them midsize, or small.
No heavy machinery whatsoever.
I sought out shorter, easier obstacles to level.
Seeking trees growing right on top of one another
trunks wilting bark with huge gaping rotted out spots
to cut first.
I like to think these trees needed it.
Destined in short time all ready to fall.
But that thinking is flawed.
Every living-dying is fated demise
not being drug from its forest
nailed into your structure
cut to length and piled for your fire
to break apart
in a location of your desire
not the forest floor
upright where it dug
in every day of its existence
and I have to be okay with taking it.
Though I am.