tree wood snap sap drink, filled mohogany mugs,
together we drink full, and sing strong and smell syrup in our voices.
Together we mine the bellies of great fur tree bullies,
we wait for the slow drip to fill the clutching bucket,
and upon the filling of our wood blood buckets we ferment slowly in vats in the cabin across the yard that deep thick sap into sugar grain drink for our table pancake parties.