Saturday, November 9, 2013

Buying Wood


Old wood cutter Charlie and I
Sat on a couple of tree stumps
Swapping pulls from a bottle
Of homemade brandy
That went down
Easier for him than
It did for me

The late fall evening was
Warm with a macaroon
Moon hanging just
Above the river’s
Ridge and we were
Settling on a price
For cords of wood

But Charlie had bigger
Things on his mind
And the brandy fired
Up his talking
Even more than
It warmed my throat
And empty stomach

I’m all done raging
At reality, he said,
Me and the missus
Are gonna sell off
The wood lots
And that old hillside
Orchard near the river

Cutting firewood is for
Younger folks with
Stronger bodies than
Mine and hers
And that rv is going
And the boat and motor
Even the hunting camp
Up by Canaan hill
With the eighty acres

It will all be gone
By spring time
Before our Carrie’s wedding
She’ll get married but
Me and Jane will be doing
Some honeymooning
Driving across
The country in
Our good pick-up truck
With the camper on
The back seeing all those
Places we missed as we
Raised the family

I told Charlie that he
Had a good plan
I sure hoped it worked
Out for them
But how much for six
Damn cords dumped near
My wood pile

Full dark had come when
He finally said

Fifty bucks a cord
And you know I’ve
Got some fuckin’ lung
Disease that will
Kill me in a
Year or so

I said that I was sorry
About that but I wasn’t
Paying any more than
Forty seven
And we
Shared the last
Of the bottle
And laughed like hell