.meiuqeR

A man and his shovel are the last of a promise,
  They work together in the pasture,
    Watching the sunset and the sunrise,
      Together they pull the weeds from the soil,
        Remove the soil from the earth,
          Empty the earth from the masticating shovel's bare lips,
            So it is a space of lonely oxygen,
          Each day is no different for their friendship,
        But they grow accustom to the lifestyle each day,
      The shovel digs in to eat more,
    But spits immediately due to the over ruling disgust,
      And this loop is accepted,
        For when the deed is done and the rain births grass,
          A man and his shovel can watch from their chair,
            While the wind blows the chair nearest to create a sad act of nostalgia.