Best Sawing Poems

Sawing Firewood For My Dad, Again

"Saw them logs boys, saw them logs
 heat for the kitchen, heat for the halls
Winter is going to be so very cold,
 so get it done before we all grow old."

Boys, don't gripe, somebody got to do it
 so hurry...

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The sunroom in the afternoon
I’m on the couch; Missy, the floor.
We both are right competitive
when working on the loudest snore.
Poor Frances has her headphones on;
it’s that or likely lose her mind.
Or so she says, but when I woke,
I heard her sawing logs in kind....

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He never once mentioned the pressure of his blood
or his Mam
I found dead on the floor

his Dad’s cancer
or his younger brother
not once, during the best years of my life

he fixed cars
with a pipe slowly smoking

a magician with gauges and valves

he drank small amounts of beer
most...

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