Inside the old body
of Mr. Brown
is a man pulling
him up
onto the backhoe
closing his fists
all nail
and knucklebone
on the great wheel. He
knows why
each day
Mr. Brown rides its
yellow thunder
around his yard
removing the lawn.
He knows why
Mr. Brown is making
his driveway deeper
and deeper.
He sees in the mounds
rising higher
than the house
a kind
of dream
of the redeemed land
of North Sutton,
New Hampshire,
U. S. A.
-Wesley McNair