Confusions just to Complicate the Mind

Away down yonder through the window door
I slap together wood for strength and speed.
A merry weather spring-time day to work.
I laugh, a merry weather spring-time laugh.
But down past creeks and birches and their friends
I can't contain the sombre quality.
The air is raucous, laced with laughs and tears..

Where is that bit, so technically-inclined,
To show me how to make trees to a house.
That's really all I want to do right now.

It's like a funeral, without the death.
And would it seem to hold together full,
Then I would die myself to fill the part.
But I can't make myself into that art.