This one came to me while I was clearing dead manzanita bushes away from our house, with a chainsaw.


Sounds of oil-fired Steel Clang
on Earthen Tones
The buzzing tooth gnaws
Rending line and form
Time weathered Grace battered!
into shards
Mopping dampened brow
I pause
Swirling wood-grained arcs
trailing fingers skyward
Sweeping Dancers frozen
in timeless worship
Gentling into dust.
Mopping dampened brow
I turn eyeing
ruins in my wake
Is it really so much better to burn
than to rust?

© David M. Pierce 1995