wheelbarrow heaven

I mixed a batch of cement for the last catch in wheelbarrow heaven where the old bodacious wheels creep past the rust dusting ravens crowing at the amounts of progress they combined to punish us with flowing with the stones building homes and border bending fences how these amazing primitive tools are still possibly used in a pinch could they pull another load pure past the perfect pour of an inch would we build one last try for what they helped our spines resign it must be best to let them rest under empty skies like old boat flies as scowling lasers shoot at my trowel with a glare like I could even forget how dare I try to cry these pines of retirement for a useful friendly tool wheelbarrow wings must fly to a future of the stoned bones & brew we'll mix a million layers of cement to build a pyramid among the ghost where the wheels move and pour the mixture on their own sweaty toes as they mix it themselves with the spirits of elves slaving the sunset view I'll kick back and watch my old friend the wheelbarrow losing a screw t'was a good run we made under the mud and stone scorching sun these broken facts from old backs despise that the electric mixer won