What lies beneath this pile of logs?
Lizards? Snakes? Toads or frogs?
Maybe bones would be found
If we dug into the ground.

Perhaps a mouse, a mole or vole
Lives within a hidden hole,
Spiders, lice and crawling things
Or flying bugs on lacy wings.

Who made this heap? How long ago?
In sunshine, rain, frost or snow?
What was the reason for this stack?
This woodpile left beside the track.

I guess in truth we’ll never know
Along the path we boldly go
Seeking that which can be found
In plain view upon the ground...

logs