Plowshare I spotted it where my grandfather had left it, hunkered down in the earth, incorrigible, partly obscured by a rampant growth of morning-glories. A dull glint still issued from its rusted share despite the incessant corruption visited upon it over the five decades that have so swiftly passed since last we shared this neglected and deviant knoll. Nearby, an oaken yoke aired no denial of the withering power of long, hard years, but simply lay as mute testimony to the seeming injustice of being supplanted by a more learned methodology. mb
Posted on: Fri, 28 Mar 2014 03:39:59 +0000
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