By: Ardis E. Parshall - January 19, 2016 Ax Handles By Alma Robison Highee All his whole life through he had loved the heftOf smooth peeled hickory, and when his sonSold the small farm they owned, he was bereftOf all that he held dear; he took but oneLoved thing from home, a cut of hickory wood.Prisoned in city walls, he tried to please,But son and daughter never understoodHow he hated the life of utter ease.He sat alone and watched the ...
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