Acrostic for the Daily Writer's Cramp in which I compare an item to my life. |
Yellow tractor roams the yard eluding any pattern, unpredictable as life, some seasons seeing more, some less, but always lying still at night. It's like my life -- it circles over countless years, forgotten of its worth until the grass reverts to brown. This tractor circles madly, cleaning, rinsing, feeding tiny blades of grass -- a life that leans toward distortion in a caricature of scale -- the sidewalk seen as interstate, the yard as forty acres, molehill mountains -- only people on the porch can see reality. They laugh at me, the victim of a joke! Look, though! Look now! My mighty yard! My arms reach far! I make this land a land of beauty, whether six feet wide or sixty, I don't care, for it was never done with any grasp of size... Some yards are bigger, some are smaller, but in practice it's irrelevant. This tractor reaches borders and explores the inner fringes just meandering along, not knowing left from right, or next -- the hose of knowledge feeding up the rear as little more than hindsight in this yard of exploration as this little yellow tractor roams a path across the planet much as I might live my life. |