Hatchet marks in the trunk of a pine. Winter cracking across that lake where the ice fishers gather -- ashes and a burning coal. What fire is this that the ragged men who huddle there now hold their hands out over it like the apostles of old. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BALINESE WITCH DOCTOR by KAREN SWENSON ROME. AT THE PYRAMID OF CESTIUS NEAR THE GRAVES OF SHELLEY by THOMAS HARDY REALISM by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 5. BY LITTLE AND LITTLE by PHILIP AYRES PSALM 139 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |