Why I love my wife

As I dress she asks,

Another day at the

wood-chopping farm?

And yes, it does begin

in a kind of wood

where trees pose a problem,

physically or metaphorically,

and you wouldn’t want one

landing wrong in either case.

My chopping, of course,

being but a form of bewilderment,

won’t bring one down, but

you’re right to note, dear,

my attire would well serve

the man who could.

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