Birch Staff, a poem by Stephen Fuller

By my side, the birch staff,
Ready for agency
To move the burning brush or
To help me up the hill
One more time
The readiness marked by lines
A poet envies, like nature writes
Invisible poems for me to grasp
In my hands as I clear the land
I walk. I’d be Gandalf the white
After slaying the beast in my pit
But with the fire pit
An orange ember
My day’s task nearly complete
I choose to rest
On this crooked rock
The discomfort echoes the quest
My fellowship has embarked on.
One ring has melted,
Another could be forged
With the hard work we do.
Land cleared for walks,
Bitch staff in hand.
I’ll not be Gandalf, I’ll just be here,
Beside you.
Together let’s blow lightly
On these embers
Maybe make s’mores.
13 Responses to “Birch Staff, a poem by Stephen Fuller”
I like your poem and the transition from a wizard to a friend
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Thank you Sadje. That turn is the most important turn of the poem. Thank you thank you.
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I appreciated that turn as well.
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🙏🙏🙏
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Love this and the humor of the last line! Didn’t see it coming!
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I didn’t see it coming either, but it’s a perfect ending to the poem!
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Yes, it was.
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So I am being corrected by my daughter… is there an invisible “h” in s’mores? Like… Shmores?
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According to Hershey.com, there is no H. You win.
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Oh no… I thought there was an “h” she wins… lol.
Thank you so much for you kind comments on this poem!!
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🙏🙏🙏
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Like a magicians ‘picnic at hanging rock’….
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🤓
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