Georgia in my Pocket

Backyard in winter where Rusty and I walk each day,
there’s fresh snow for Rusty to hop in and mark the way.
Our house has served us well for more than forty years,
with an apartment on the lower level with help from volunteers.
Parents, niece, nephew, and daughter have all lived there,
and now even Kathy and I have even moved in downstairs.
Only an attic fan to help us survive through the hot night,
failure to clean out the fireplace would create an awful sight.
We later installed air conditioning, and life sure improved,
looking back on all the excitement, it kept us amused!
After years we built a new deck to remove the steep stairs,
then later a roof, sliding storm doors and a floor of carpet squares.
A second deck with a hot tub added for when we were sore,
and storage for the Mustang under the porch with a concrete floor.
With skylights and fans, we can relax and enjoy our backyard space,
with the afternoon sun making it a cozy special place.

Just out the back door, all covered with snow,
a stack of oak logs from a tree cut long ago.
Too green to split, I let them dry out for a while;
over the years I slowly split firewood from the pile.

As the wood got really dry I found it too hard to split,
laying there just taking up space where I called it quits.
Now I burn them one log at a time whenever
I clean up the yard and need the fire to burn better.

The rest of the tree lies across the ditch to line the trail,
circling our backyard to the bridge with the handrail.
Left to rot and provide a home for chipmunks and snakes,
the wood pile could be one of my many mistakes.

My morning walk with Rusty along the creek,
crossing the bridge his actions were unique,
he saw something that drove him insane,
holding on tight I tried to constrain.

In the woods along the bank,
not a sound as my heart sank.
Not a movement, not even a squirrel,
as he ran around in a crazy whirl.

The next morning at the same place,
I saw my shadow standing in space.