Iron blade meets heavy clay,
Turning dark brown earth away.
Foot upon the metal edge,
Sinking deeper past the hedge.
Pile the soil up high and neat,
Sweat is dropping near my feet.
What was hidden, what was lost,
Measured by a dusty cost—
Just a circle in the ground,
Where the quiet dark is found.
Turning dark brown earth away.
Foot upon the metal edge,
Sinking deeper past the hedge.
Pile the soil up high and neat,
Sweat is dropping near my feet.
What was hidden, what was lost,
Measured by a dusty cost—
Just a circle in the ground,
Where the quiet dark is found.
