Diane Hine - Stacking Wood lyrics

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Diane Hine - Stacking Wood lyrics

Our Mum was chopping wood, a daunting pile. She said, 'This must be stacked before you go'. Affecting not to hear with practiced guile, we pedalled off on bikes a mile or so- to where the river mouth lay satin sleek. Our wheels etched loops and spirals in the sand, the palimpsest displayed our fine technique, a tour de force of abstract art unplanned. Back home, we slipped our bikes behind the shed and Mum was busy gutting clean a chook. We darted in and out to snatch a snack, pretending not to see her pointed look. Across the field, the web-laced stockyard fence bequeathed its bones as splinters in our hands. Our realms were spiked with riveting suspense and bordered prickle-riddled no man's lands. The outside dunny's contents had accrued, so Mum was hard at work with garden spade. We tip-toed to the kitchen after food- polony, chutney sandwiches quick made. The steep walled gully hid a cluttered spring of rusted metal, gla** and fretted things, enclosed by upswept eucalyptus wings. We rained rocks down and made our valley sing. When dusk fell, nature's warmth withdrew aloof. My older sister frowned- I understood. The yellow window glowed a soft reproof. Before we went inside, we stacked the wood.