In the middle of a frozen lake, two poles stood ten feet apart. One was oak, thick and scarred by storms. The other was pine, slender and still fragrant with sap. Between them, a single hole had been cut through the ice — dark water breathing cold air.

The hole said nothing. It just waited.

Here’s a short piece based on the phrase : Two Poles, One Hole

That night, a deer slipped through the forest and stepped onto the ice. It sniffed the poles, then the hole. It drank.

The pine pole said, "I hold a lantern for lost children."