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FOREST MAKER
The gentle dark embraces me
in cool dense southern air
as winter finally starts to flee.
A lone hound sadly bays somewhere.
I make plans in the deep of night.
The coming day I shall be tractor bound
making the acreage just right
clearing weed and brush choked ground.
For the seedlings of a new forest
arrive in just a few more days.
Until then there will be little rest
for this man with hair of white and grays.