Wood Chips

There’s a big pile of wood chips

Outside my apartment

Just three floors down

From my balcony.

Now Autumn leaf piles

Are my fun department,

And all that small timber

Looked just the same to me.
To I climbed three stories

To the roof of my flat

Thinking of stories

I’d soon have to tell.

In hindsight, I was stupid.

I realize that,

But despite the mistake,

My jump went quite well.
I’m writing this poem

From my private suite

At Saint Andrew’s center

For injuries from small boards.

I’m hosting some bloggers

Who seem pretty neat,

And they say they’ll refer me

To the Darwin Awards.
If you ever doubt that life is good,

Jump into a pile of tiny wood.

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