Too long have I not sung the praises
          of our hardwood trees,
felled, cut, stacked, dried, and hauled
          to the house and woodshed,
then split and brought inside all winter long
          to put inside our woodstove,
to burn, to keep us warm. This wood
          that grows less than half a mile
from our house, these trees
          that grow faster than I
can cut them down,
          always making more
than we can use.

Oh, finally I sing the praises of wood.
          Homegrown and handy, abundant,
convenient, cheap, the growth of these hills
          right here at home.

Finally now, I sing the praises
          of our hardwood trees.


From Happy Life (Copper Canyon Press, 2011).
Used by permission of the publisher.