
A happy autumn morning’s work:
Ten hundredweight of warmth and light
All passing through my rough-gloved hands
Safe now, stacked up and covered over.
All those odd angles, planes and faces
Edges, corners, bark and splinters
Locked and jammed tight in together;
A mighty wall against the cold.
And every lump of ash and oak
Is like a gift I give myself;
A hoard of shining gold and rubies
Held against a fickle future.
And when the nights come armed with steel
This simple labour is rewarded
With the comfort of my loved ones.
And in this moment, I am aglow.
Thank you for sharing!
Thank you, Olivia!
Oh this reminded me of a summer I spent in New England cutting and splitting wood for the winter…it occupied each summer’s day…oh but the blisters lasted till spring.;-)
I wish I was able to cut my own wood, Charles; it’s still a dream of mine to live in a place where that was possible. Sadly I’m a poor town-dweller and have to get it delivered in a big half-ton bag on the back of truck; but at least I get to handle, smell and stack it – and the old saying is true: wood really does warm you twice! N.