Between your walls
all those years ago.
What was it like?
Were you cold in the winter or
did your fire keep you warm?
Trees from the woods made your walls.
Old oaks from a savanna that is no more,
now covered with buckthorn galore.
We know their age from counting their rings,
the trees were there long before you could sing.
Seventy five years before 1861 those trees grew.
Right on your property, because the seeds flew.
But, then they served a purpose for you.
They kept you safe during the long cold days
and in the summer too, when there was a misty haze.
Wisconsin was logged.
Was it during your time?
The forest was used for fuel, fire, shelter, and more;
Now it still stands for us to adore.
Among the hickory, oak, birch, and aspen too,
Stands a lone cabin that was made for you.
There it has stood through the test of time,
like a sentry guarding the woods, so divine.
The cabin remains alone on the brink,
Now all we see is greyed wood
and white chink.
But then, so long ago there was
All to make a cabin
in the woods.
What will your logs be next?
You will be remembered, long after you’re gone.
A place of history tucked away in the coulee
visible to all those who remember each dawn.
Today is Poetry Friday. I’ve had a little trouble writing this past week and cannot put my finger on why. I feel stalled or stagnant, not a block but more that I cannot put into words what I want to say. This past week we did some work in our woods where a cabin from 1861 stands. It is not a historical landmark, but interesting, in any case. Today, I used my images of the cabin and wonderings about its past to fuel my poem. I hope you enjoy it. Today’s poetry round up is hosted by wee words for wee ones! Be sure to check out author Bridget Magee’s blog for a fun exercise on color (one of my favorite ways to write poetry)! Thanks!