"momma, you've GOT to come see!"
he has found beauty while lying on the ground, looking up at the belly of the machine.
years of quiet requests to rid our home of enormous machine.
"then"... it was a blessing, as it removed evidence of a curse, of destruction. 20 beautiful pines twisted, exploded.
organic shrapnel.
vines entombed the quiet machine when the work was done. butterflies came to feed and lay eggs in tall, spindly nursery-weeds that grew as tall as giant tread. dogs sought refuge underneath - from garden hose, baths, sun, and rain.
for years, a fort to be claimed, a mountain to be climbed, a cliff to be jumped from, a jungle to be explored.
"then"... it lay heavy and still on ground that dreamed of tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, melons, mustards, pumpkins...
more quiet requests.
promises that it would happen "soon". promises, not empty, but unable to design.
"soon" - comes, and goes. came, and went.
and soon became "now".
boys claimed, and climbed, and jumped, and explored one last time. small hands waved a tearful farewell, waving until the fort-mountain-cliff-jungle,friend, was out of sight.
"now"... it is gone.
childish pleas to keep it, to not let it go, to let it stay.
cries for mercy.
turning slowly, they walk toward planting-ground.
they talk of magic bean stalks
and apple orchards
and bread-trees,
of bean-pole-tipis
and a fort with an escape hatch
that opens up onto rows of melons...
and now, the tears have dried.
