“There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.”

-Ernest Hemingway

The mind rewinds tactics,

time. Stihl growls, ladders raised

from the dead, silence that fills

your ears. The hook shouts

in a sturdy sound, saw splits the sea

of shingles in a fiery kerf. Thoughts louvered defeats and victories,

light off

tumbling towards the sky.

Brow turned down, gut turned

up. Assuredness is kindling

with no spark, cold and dry. Humility drives the working engine

that stokes the fire

in the hearts of those

who fight it.