A downcanyon mile,
the hay barn yawns at dusk,
an empty hole,
its hungry mouth
in the middle of the stack.
Breaking down the bales
by steps is an old man’s game,
an engineering feat to keep
lifts to a minimum
loading a feed truck—
one proposed prerequisite
before any academic degree:
to fill and empty a hay barn—
the other, spend a summer
running water down a furrow.






Isn’t that why in the movies they always have “hired hands” or at least 3 kids? 😉
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