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Just sitting there, beside the river.

A log.

 

Just sitting there, housing that moss.

A log.

 

Just slouching there, squishing those weeds.

A log.

 

Just strapped there, in the back of that truck.

A log.

 

Just stacked there, in that wood pile.

A log.

 

Just burning there, in that wood burner.

A log.

 

 

 

Will Boast

Orford Primary

 

 

 

 

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Poem of the Log

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We started by making a list of things you might find in the landscape but once Will centred on a log he very much went his own way with it and most pleasingly found a rather splendid form to tell its lifestory. But it’s not only that – he has a good turn of phrase and ear for language too – I like the way the log is ‘slouching’ and ‘squishing’ those weeds or ‘strapped in the back of that truck’. What a great sounding poem!

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