Heaved Poem by Christopher Tye

Heaved



Heaved

Heavy work as we heave the logs home,
Everyday more backbreaking work to be done,
A day's work never finished until dusk,
Veins pumping as we work ourselves into the ground,
English Oaks felled and heaved out to the sawmill,
Days of work still needing to be done.

By Christopher Tye

Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: work,wood,woods
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Christopher Tye

Christopher Tye

Lincolnshire, England
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