For Daddy, On His Valentine Birthday

I had never imagined

not once

until yesterday

that those magical days

of wandering

through the woods

with an all-day sucker

staying in earshot

of the chainsaw

and later

the axe's chop and clack

exploring the mysterious

dark creek down in the

bottom

I didn't know those moments

could be remembered

as anything but

adventurous, luxurious

exciting

but now

I think of your freezing hands

your aching muscles

lifting the axe above

your head over and over

all day long

I see the mountain 

of triangular logs

in the back of the trailer

heaped high for us to sit on 

as we dodged low-hanging

branches on the way 

home

and I realize

only now

the neatly stacked

pile of wood

warming us through the

winter

was the fruit of 

a day of labor

and not 

a day of fun