The Winter Wood Arrives

I think
I could have
built a little house
to live in

with the single cord--
half seasoned, half not--
trucked into the
driveway and

tumbled down. But, instead,
friends came
and together we stacked it
for the long, cold days

that are--
maybe the only sure thing in the world--
coming soon.
How to keep warm

is always a problem,
isn't it?
Of course, there's love.
And there's prayer.

I don't belittle them,
and they have warmed me,
but differently,
from the heart outwards.

Imagine
what swirls fo frost will cling
to the windows, what white lawns
I will look out on

as I rise from morning prayers,
as I remember love, that leaves yet never leaves,
as I go out into the yard
and bring the wood in

with struggling steps,
with stuggling thoughts,
bundle by bundle
to be burned.


Mary Oliver