Poem – Machines That Move Earth

(1)

Putting aside hollywood notions
of machine versus man –

September morning is
hidden in fog, coated
with an early frost.

Subdued sun scattered
across fields, meadows, and prairies.

The sky becomes the land
becomes the horizon.

We head north,
leaving behind city
lights and traffic
for pine trees and
winter in the air.

(2)

Winter is coming
early this year.

With axes, shovels
and our hands

we move the earth
gently and with care.

Preparing trails
and food plots,

becoming part of
the system,

returning to our roots.

Tools of the Trade

Tools of the Trade

Shelter and Home

Shelter and Home

My Helper

My Helper

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