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The Great Orange Shovel

by Maria Francesca

I cannot tell you why,
but every night, while we're asleep,
a giant orange shovel
digs a hole that's six feet deep.

I know it makes no sense
that such a tool could be a creeper,
but with every setting sun
it digs the same hole six feet deeper.

It doesn't seem to work by day,
but toils every night
as if it might be 'shamed,
to show its actions to the light.

six, twelve, eighteen, and twenty-four -
each night it's always six feet more.
its orange glow keeps shining bright
to light its work through every night.

but I'm certain it would cause no hurt
if someone could replace that dirt
and every time it digs again
we all could fill that tunnel in -

and what would it do
and where would it go?
maybe down south to Mexico

and would it continue to dig down there?
I can't convince myself to care!




10/01/2017

Posted on 10/01/2017
Copyright © 2024 Maria Francesca

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/02/17 at 10:02 PM

Ha! A shovel with a purpose. What cemetery wouldn't love this eager worker. Silly and fun. Thanks for this.

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