Lumber (an acrostic poem)

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Log after log swung off the truck and onto the mud

Under a gray sky that threatened snow any day now

Maybe she would have time to get this cabin built, but it would be close, too close.

Before she had moved out here, all she knew was the stuff you got from Home Depot or Lowes

Every day in this wilderness ingrained into her a sense of place, a sense of nature

Reaching for the first log with her backhoe, she eased her future over the foundation wall. Time to build her future.

Digger (an acrostic poem)

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Dirt packed under his ragged fingernails

It was something he prided himself on

Grabbing the wrench he went back to work

Giving another shot at fixing the old backhoe

Even though the brand new one sat right next to it

Really didn’t want to let his dear friend go quite yet