The tractor by the bored bard

the old tractor


the ignition flickers

the engine hacks

then cranks into a slow

clap clap clap clap clap

the exhaust pipe

runs smokey moist

its casing dripping

dripping wet

the retiring clutch judders

like an overloaded ferry

newly detached from its moorings

rising falling

side to side

the mammoth is tamed

at least for now

chugging towards extinction

and there

in some corner

of a lonely field

rusting in rain

blasted by the sun

a robin tilts it head

notices the big wheel

and wonders if it will

ever turn again

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