Sugaring in the north woods,
frosty nights and a warm day,
placing taps and buckets,
horse drawn wagon the old way.
Gathering the sweet sap to boil,
memories now sepia-toned and old,
maple sugaring with grandfather,
in another time doing as I was told.
The fire burning hot into the night,
our sap house all aglow,
the sweet nectar provided by nature,
over freshly fallen snow.
Work was hard but honest,
my fond memories stay,
sugaring in the north woods,
frosty nights and a warm day.
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