From the time I was a little girl
For as long as I can remember
We had a giant woodpile
From January through December
My dad chopped and stacked wood
And I loved to help with it all
I’m sure I didn’t always do it right
Beside my dad so handsome and tall
But it was a time that we shared
I just loved to hear him talk
About the years when he was growing up
Down that bygone path we’d walk
And when I grew up and had kids
I too would have a wood pile
A solitary job it was
For I was a widow after awhile
The past brings me such pleasure
And I’ve always understood
A lifetime of memories were created
While I was chopping wood!
Marilyn Lott
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chopping-wood/
