(part IX)
It was hard work
Very hard work for a traveler
Mostly used to walking for hours
I could see that Frank was used to this labour
But I could also see
How glad he was to have help
At such a labour intensive job
Both of us enjoyed a dip in the stream at noon
Frank was a silent man while working
Focused on the motion of the saw
Or the point his axe was to come down on the block
I could tell he was a precise man
By the way his axes were kept
A perfect bevel upon their edge
That split through wood
Like butter on Amy’s warm bread
I commented on this a few times
And he just kept saying
A real man must look after his tools.
Clarinet would come around
With the dogs once and a while
But Frank would tell her it was too dangerous
Around the chopping blocks so
And she would wander back to the house
Amy and her would bring sandwiches to us
Roasted beef with cucumber and
Amy’s secret sauce she wouldn’t give me the recipe for
Who was I kidding though,
I wouldn’t be making it any time soon
I think it had radishes in it.
During the evenings we would sit around the oven
I’d ask just enough questions
To keep Frank talking as he liked to,
Always with a story of childhood
Clearly fond memories for him with his brothers,
But always with his sweetheart close by
Smiling, just as I watched her these fond evenings
Clearly full of love,
I’d fall asleep smiling every night.