Old Wheelbarrow (On Reading William Carlos Williams' Red Wheelbarrow) Poem by Andrew Lee

Much depends
on recalling,
seeing
those times and days
the old red wheelbarrow
had provided help
in the weeding
fertilizing
soil spreading
seed planting
strengthening the body and soul.

Today
still wishing
to keep
that old wheelbarrow
dusty
rusty
faded
streaked with mud
blotched with hardened grime,
in many ways
like this old, rough-skinned body,
breathing hard,
sweating,
struggling
to pen
a few poems
before it expires.

Someone
seems
to hear
read
understand
these lines.

Is someone
seeing
hearing
understanding
through
this pair of wrinkled, old eyes?