This wood, just added to the fireplace,
I cut and split and stacked
two years ago last November
to warm this January night.
And the sound of your voice
above the crackling fire
makes us comfortable with each other
and our fifty-three years together.
I do my part to keep the fire burning hot.
Knowing the dead trees in our woods
will be placed in the fireplace
a few more winters from tonight.
And how these words, also,
have been stacked and cured.
Not knowing when they'd be used
to finish this winter poem.
© 2025 Richard Havenga
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