These are just some of my personal comments about the poem; you can skip them if you want:

    What happens to the writer in this poem, actually DID happen to me. When I was just a kid I was walking through my grandparents' woods, and came across a neatly stacked, but rotting, woodpile. I don't remember what I thought about it at the time; it was nothing profound, I'm sure. Years later, the first time I read this poem, that image instantly popped into my mind.
    What is the writer of this poem talking about? Three possibilities:

    Sometimes, something less important gets put off for something that is MORE important; and due to unforseen circumstances, we never return to finish the job.

    Sometimes we lose interest in a task, for whatever reason. We may become bored with doing it, or the job is no longer necessary because of changing conditions.

    The worst case is when the project becomes impossible to complete, or becomes so difficult that we feel we are beating our heads against the wall. This is called "giving up".

    These were NOT the things I thought about when I found that woodpile. These are NOT the things that I thought about the first time that I read the poem. These are things that I think about NOW, whenever I leave something undone - for WHATEVER reason!