A wheelbarrow,
Standing beside the clucking white chickens
Wheels sinking in the slightly damp soil
But do the chickens bring any company?
For the wheelbarrow carries such a heavy weight
And so much is depended upon it
The burdens of love and loss.
Then there is the rain
Which glazes it’s shiny red coat
And fills the empty space with fallen water
Excluding all other objects
And all other thoughts
But wait
The sun
For it has appeared once more!
And we hope for our period of burden
To be ceased
To be freed
From its shiny red shackles
The chickens cluck in rejoice!
The rain drips away!
But the wheelbarrow…
It stays, unmoving, emotionless
As if it is waiting
As if it wishes not to jinx it
As we have all done once before
As we do with no real end
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