Rust Never Sleeps
by Annie Neugebauer The tractor sleeps in yellowed fields of hay, deprived of rightful color, tires flat, and isolated there is where he’ll stay, for oxidizing orange has wrapped his back
by Annie Neugebauer The tractor sleeps in yellowed fields of hay, deprived of rightful color, tires flat, and isolated there is where he’ll stay, for oxidizing orange has wrapped his back
by Annie Neugebauer Trying to catch the lull between August heat and the far side of gloaming, I tug weed after weed