trench man #2: almost (so far to go)

I took my tools
in the soft
morning light

I broke through
and clay

I cleared the dirt
from my straight
true line

and bent my back
as though praying
to the gods
of digging

when I looked
how far
(not far enough)
when I looked how far
(so far still to go)

I looked at my hands
and they wept for me

the mattock knows now
the way I like to strike
the shovel fits snug
to my grasp

and we swing
and we clear
with the end in sight
and we know
we are almost


are almost home

© Frank Prem, 2017

June 2017 Poem #08: closing time


3 thoughts on “trench man #2: almost (so far to go)

  1. the mystery of why the trench digging has me in suspense – but I’m content to sit with the intimacy of the words, the idea that hard labour, and especially tight-spot hard labour begs for a knowing of tools in deep relation to muscle, bone, skin, always makes me stop and pause, in appreciation, but I am biased – lovely poem Frank

    (it’s me – Pat – had to change again due to Google Chrome being in conspiracy with my PC and almost creating a mega wipe out of my hard-drive, which has led me to change browsing platforms, and not being able to use old names properly – so joke’s on me – and I thumb my nose at the stinking petunias.)

    Liked by 1 person

      • LOL@the no point? Seriously??? All that labour for no reason at all? I had noticed that the image showed the trench and it was hard to tell if there was something that had been laid into it, because I definitely noticed the filling in? Anyhow, there are less grueling ways to meditate, even in physical labour, but I suppose if it works for someone, then so be it 🙂

        Cyber petunias are the worst of the lot!

        Liked by 1 person

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