Gift of Labor

Ripping a barn down

with a crowbar and hammer

is better than yoga

 

for helping a person

learn to see, and to breathe,

and to enjoy being.

 

The sound of Kentucky rain

splattering coveralls and planks

is a spirit symphony

 

and the smell of moist earth,

red clay mud and lingering

autumn leaves is aroma therapy

 

that cannot be replicated

nor purchased at outlet stores;

this oneness, peace,

 

that comes with stiff muscles

and wind-reddened cheeks

is a by-product of a love affair

 

between a woman

and her land.

 

 

2 thoughts on “Gift of Labor

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