Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Poem: Sap Dance

Sap Dance

Steam swirls around you,
sweet with sap from a thousand trees,
tapped, drained and boiled over the hardwood fire,
slowly condensed, purified.

The season is short,
those few perfect days of warmth
with icy nights,
neither winter nor spring,
but something in between,

an imperfect balance
that brings the perfect mix
for sweet syrup.

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The picture is from this past winter, taken in Durkeetown, NY. (In light of the heat wave hitting us here in the east this week, the image of snow had a certain appeal.) You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

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