Mowing a pasture.
Filling water buckets for the sheep and
Submerging my hand to the bottom.
Fitting a new handle to a sledgehammer.
Putting chickens to bed.
Digging sand from the dry creek bed.
Sweating till I am blinded.
Crinkling my nose and seeing the vultures.
Drinking down a liter of sweet well water.
Screeching hawk atop the dead sycamores.
Trusting words, just barely,
Just enough poetry
To remediate the world.