A Morning’s Work

I will have branches snatch at my hat this morning,
my muscles twisting tight to keep lumber balanced on a two-wheeled dolly.
I will wheel it back to the almost-clearing where the boys can build
a something. To play hard after such a cold lull
is to let the springtime breathe way down deep into my blood.
We’ll play hard enough to need some waterproof boots, the
kind that can withstand the spray of the hose after we
make a morning of tramping through the underbrush.

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