SMOKE GETS IN MY EYES
How many campfires did you lay,
Birchbark, twigs and slender sticks,
To tempt the creeping tongue of flame
And feed its fiery appetite?
You learned to build the pyramid
With tinder arching over bark:
A single match would serve to wick
The pyre construed with boy scout art.
How many trees did you cut down
And split and stack for winter fuel
In the Franklin stove that kept us warm
And gave us cheerful hearts as well?
Now as I feed my grandson’s blaze
Constructed with his sage advice,
I think of your consistent ways
And feel the smoke tear up my eyes.
(July 2014)
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