Long Hours

Chilly icy winds rush through the tree

ice glistened on the windscreen,

moisture from the dew trickled rivulets of water,

the ghostly fog floated by blocking my view,

smoke from the camp fire mingled with the fog,

steam rose from the water boiling over the fire,

bacon sizzled on the pan, bread toasted on the wire fork,

sunlight penetrated the tree tops

sent chill on its way, heat moved in,

engines roared, trees fell, crashed to the ground,

voices yell, tempers flare, eyes spit sparks,

feet stumble over wet bark,

tools grabbed to barked orders,

logs stacked high, weighed down the truck tray,

truck wheels spin over wet grass

to crash through the bush,

by lunch, fierce sunlight burned down on us,

sweat flowed down dust covered faces,

shirts wringing wet are covered with saw dust,

arms and legs bronzed from hours spent under the sun,

load chained down ready to move out,

tools packed aboard, secured in place,

as the sun has long passed below the horizon.