Firewood

by Nazaret Ranea

That your grandfather gathers firewood

all year long,

even though he doesn't need it,

doesn't surprise me.

But you complain, baffled,

that the shed is

piled with logs,

with living wood

that doesn't burn,

that doesn't rot.

But wait

until, in the middle of February,

the heater breaks

or the power goes out,

because that same oak

he wanted to leave in peace

falls on the wires.

When your feet, your hands,

your face shrink from the cold,

your grandfather will come from the garden

with his little log under his arm,

with his weary step

to warm the house,

to light up your evening,

to roast chestnuts.

BIO: Nazaret Ranea is a poet born in Málaga, Spain, and living in Edinburgh since 2017. Named one of Scotland’s Next Generation Young Makars, her writing often touches on themes of nostalgia, memory, and the idea of home, blending personal and universal experiences. Her debut poetry collection, Nettles, is forthcoming with Drunk Muse Press in June 2025.

Nazaret’s work has found homes in over fifty publications around the world, appearing in both English and Spanish. She is also the creator of the zines My Men and My Women and the editor of For Those Who Tend the Soil, an anthology produced in collaboration with the Scottish Poetry Library. She has been fortunate to share her work on BBC Radio Scotland and at events like the Edinburgh Fringe Festival and the Edinburgh International Book Festival.