Firewood
Overgrowths of arm-post life
Lift upward as my steam-breath
Vanishes thinly into the sky
Cool sweat drips deliberately
As the stacks grow larger
And the sawdust smells and sticks
The wagon-load will wallow obediently
As the frost bites cleanly
Through the still winter dusk
Ash white smoke curls softly
From the cut-stone chimney
Where a portrait of simplicity
Sleeps eternally in my mind
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