Poem: Too green tree grief

Gathering firewood, I want to hear that crack of a branch snapping off.
Dry wood is better for fires.
But my branches are too green inside to break clean.

I try and break off a thin branch and it's messy
it half breaks and stays half attached.
I get sap on my hands.
The rest of the limb has to be pealed from the tree.

Maybe it's good for something?
To be more bendy and green.
But I still want to hear that sound of a clean snap
and want what that would be for a fire
a quick hot burning short lived grief.

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Grief is so much better, easier, the stages quicker...when the break is a quick snap.
I feel disgusted with the tree limbs in my heart and their green, sappy, inner bendiness.
I want these limbs to be useful for fires and building now.