There has been talk lately about a poetic form called a golden shovel, this is not one but it's what came as I thought of a shovel...
The shovel
Is the only tool that rests in knowledge
of worth. Year-round it is called upon,
needed to dig and scoop, pile and pat.
The garden, the yard, the flowerbeds in spring
John’s little kitten mashed beneath the tractor’s
tire. Each job the shovel comes to stoic
and silent, ready for each level of gravity.
Winter mornings, across the shoulders, it is
taken to the frozen creek to open the watering
hole (again) for the cattle.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
The thing with feathers
Blackbirds & cowbirds, the grackles & jays spend the snowy morning at the feeders bullying finches & sparrows. Cardinals aflame ...
-
"We are shaped by the landscapes we are born to as inescapably as any other earthly creature born to any other ecosystem." Margare... -
Part of the world of responsible pet ownership is knowing, or trying to be compassionate enough to know, when it is enough for a being in ... -
There was a moment on the way to Charles de Gaulle airport Thursday morning when I looked up to see Jerry laughing with a young black man on...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for reading and commenting!