Wednesday Poem

He Thanks His Wood Pile

The wood of the madrone burns with a flame once
lavender and mossy green, a color you sometimes see in a sari.

Oak burns with a peppery smell.

For a really hot fire, use bark.
You can crack your stove with bark.

All winter long I make wood stews:

Poem to stove to woodpile to stove to
typewriter ……. woodpile ……. stove.

and can’t stop peeking at it!
can’t stop opening the door!
can’t stop giggling at it

crazy as Han Shan as
Wittgenstein in his German hut, as
all the others ever were and are

………………. Ancient Order of Fire Gigglers

who walked away from it, finally,
kicked the habit, finally, of Self, of
man-hooked Man

………………. ( which is not, at last, estrangement )

by Lew Welsh
from Ring of Bone
Grey Fox Press.1960