Out in the woods on an autumn day
The sky is cloudy with a touch of gray
Cutting wood, for some winter heat
Cord after cord all stacked neat
Camouflage paint and an orange vest
Bow and arrow in a treetop nest
An eight-point buck in your sight
A flock of duck, shot in mid-flight
Raking piles of leaves day after day
Wishing the wind would blow them away
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem