Here’s a pile of wood cut by an 89 year old man.
True, he was two months younger at the time,
and also true, he used a gas powered chain saw,
not nearly as heavy as the one he yielded 40 years ago,
and certainly not a bow saw like his granddaddy knew.
I must include the fact that the 89 year old man
did not cut up these cords in a single day
and has been known to partake in napping
intermittently to frequently
to add a needed boost as dwindling stamina demands.
This is evidence of noble work he’s done
when he wasn’t throwing bales around
or carrying buckets of ground up corn
to feed voluble, ungrateful, insistent, insatiable
growing holstein heifers into cows,
or reading sundry novels (a man with no obvious use for category)
and devouring magazines front to back and inbetween
(How many subscriptions can one man read?
National Geographic, Scientific American, Utne Reader, Sojourners,
The Farmer, The Land, Funny TImes,
The Nation, Hightower’s Lowdown, Atlantic,
Mother Jones, Harpers, Need I list on?)
But I digress…
This man of which I did forspeak not only tackled wide girthed trunks
and laid those heavy pieces down,
but gallantly fought off a hackle-raised cock
who foolishly, fearlessly, fiercely charged both man and roaring saw.
Testosterone-obsessed Mac Rooster was very nearly sliced to tinder
from becoming Sunday dinner
with gravy blood atop a pile of timber.
This wood will make a lot of heat.
It’s going to burn a long, long time.
What a grand and massive pile of trees felled
and hauled and sawn
by someone who’s outlived them all.
I want to shout. It makes me proud,
this one more thing my Daddy did.