fetching firewood
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it's late summer and
we're up with the memory
of winter's cold call to
gather firewood we'll
need a lot very soon
we climb the would-be
logger's ladder on a
steep hill rough and rocky
paths slogging through
the virgin forest picking up
left over heat dead or down
heat logs felled naturally
we gather the gifts fetching
warmth and freedom
from high gas bill blues
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Poem by Janet Cannon
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