With the Machinery

Even when the fast wind
toppled the old and looming tree outside,
the one I used as shelter from the days of different sunlights,
I noticed the strong double doors of the barn,
where I kept the machinery,
standing firmly closed–they were held with bolted hinges and metal straps
that kept the splinters from happening.

I was standing on the inside,
staring out through the dirty windows,
trying to figure out the difference between hurricane and breeze.
And although the rafters above me were creaking, and I knew
they would soon collapse down and kill me, for now, they were better
than the weather outside.

And as long as the tractor has enough oil in its workings, its gas tank filled
up and its tired inflated, as long as the harvester’s blades are at their sharpest
and the batteries are charged every weekend, I know that when I go outside,
that when I do, the work’s going be done…

Yes, when I go outside, when I do, the work’s going to be done…