Axe

If my eyes were wooden
And hacked through
With the slice of an axe—
If my perceptions
Were split in two,
Or splintered furiously
By the edge of its blade—
Would I see the multiple
Sides of my sight—
The interspersed fragments
Falling upon the ground
Where I stand?
Would the axe cut
And show a wound
To hurt
Or a necessary force
To heal
In my willing hands?

poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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