(READ ALL TIM LABBE POEMS)
Cowhide gloves, wrapped the twine
Heaved the weighty bails, behind the tine
Dusty straw flecks, filtered the sun
When it was strong, bright and young
Dusk spoke out, in the decaying old barn
Stacked to the gambrel, our youths yarn
Telling truths, of works sweaty content
Afore our bodies, broken and bent.
by:
Tim Labbe
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