Dig, Dig, Dig
The sun is hot – it warms my shoulders
The gloves are tight – they protect me
The shovel is sharp – but still not enough
Blackland prairie – dirt becomes clay

The hole
is slowly
formed
wider
deeper
wider
deeper
Until it is done
The lemon water tastes so good

Wait, Wait, Wait
For the sun to go down
The twilight has to witness the burial
Putting in is much quicker
Than digging out

Water, Water, Water
And there it is
And there it rests
And there it lives