Spade, Beautiful Spade Poem by Diana van den Berg
Spade, Beautiful Spade
Oh, the cold, hard weight
and the precision
and the rhythm
of the swing
and the dry-earth crash
crash
crash
... and the pauses...
... leaning...
... catching clean-earth breath...
... surveying...
and the comforting, muscle, memory rewards
(7 November 2005)
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: november
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8/28/2026 11:59:01 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
