Wood Pile
by Elizabeth ReningerOriginal Language English
within the silence of dawn I can hear
echoes of an axe-blade
falling
the heartwood lies open now, exposed
with quartered rings showing
maturity
through the bright air this mountain
rises now, saying: Winter
is coming
my years of growing deep
in the forest have brought me
to this --
this Love at last ready
for burning, within the silence
of dawn I can hear
echoes of a matchstick drawn
across flint, the first
stars ignited
within the mingling of our breath at last
set free, and I can hear
You entering. . .
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