ONCE
Once upon a time
when we were very young and life was simple
my sister and I hauled wood, every winter
evening from woodpile to house
to feed three hungry stoves.
Our feet crisped through the snow -
frost magicked our cheeks
while cold and weariness numbed our fingers
as load after load after load
willow, ash, birch, poplar logs
thundered into the maw of the woodbox.
Finished, we returned to the frost fairyland
to roll and tumble like careless puppies
in the snow where young moonbeams shattered
drifts into diamonds.
Once upon a time is very long ago.
Yet, if some frosty, diamond-sprinkled night
A fairy godmother should offer me one wish,
just ONE, I think I'd ask to haul wood again
with my sister
But I know I'd make it clear
I'd ask to do it only once.
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