The Black Napkin Volume 1 Issue 2 | Page 10

7

Joint

by Philip Miller

Dad was chopping wood.

Placing cords on a block

and striking them through.

was up a tree, all glad, and yelled.

His hit fell wrong

and his shoulder became two.

A wince and a hanging arm.

Over the fields, the crows called.

Autumn dying in the cold.

Come down, son, and hold the axe,

he said. I held the heavy shaft.

And he forced his joint back.