by Ron Jevaltas 

Splitting fire wood in the green and white shed, early before the heat of day; huge well seasoned white oak and pine rounds stringy and stubborn as some can get, require patience, and knowledge of burls, whorls and grain – even how crotches behave when trifled with.

They scurry with their tiny oblong eggs.

Not too long ago I used a maul and wedge. But now time dictates I wield an electric five ton Harbor Freight hydraulic.

As their homes burst and hit the floor,

Some splits require multiple goes. I stoop and gather too large halves to quarter. Some bolts respond to better placement, often redirecting to match faults in the grain to the post’s keen edge is enough.

the ants have no clue life’s run its course.

And finally, the most stubborn succumb to my chainsaw and it’s kerfs to arrive at the desired width and breadth.

Bark beetle larvae wriggle in the piles,

Row upon row of lives I have touched billeted under the green and white shed –

testament to a retiree’s resolve and ethic.