FETCHING A TREE

Almost fifteen and with axe in tow,
I trudged a mile in the falling snow.
Four-year-old brother lagging behind,
Off to the woods for a tree to find.

Some were too big, and others, too small,
Then finding one that wasn’t too tall.
Wound up and swung, the axe was so heavy,
I chopped and chopped, ever so steady.

Back up, little brother, here it comes,
And down it fell with a great big thump.
Now the task was to carry it home,
Pull, little brother, bumpety bump.

Brother was crying, he was so cold,
Bravely he helped to carry the load,
Hands and feet freezing, we hit the door...
And then tossed the tree onto the floor.

A look of pride in little brother’s eyes,
As he gazed at the tree in wide surprise,
Colors of red on the green Christmas tree,
Lights a twinkling and dancing with glee.

My muscles sore from chopping away,
But it was worth it that Christmas day...
Things were lot harder in years gone past...
Few, today, are as hardy as that young lass.

*The little brother in this poem was my brother Gary...killed at age 16...as a pedestrian.