From the Farm

A knob of rock,
An ancient formation.
From the path of the land,
Where crops once flourished.

A shelter stands on a slight hill,
Once a work in progress,
Once ashes from a mistake,
Now a solitary shack.

It’s from the path the dog ran,
Outrunning his master,
His soft pads crashing onto the sea of rocks.
And when the path melted through the gums,
He knew to turn back.

It’s from a farm a tractor once roamed.
The tractor purred like a immense wild cat.
Fumes rising from the engine.
It shivered violently,
Like it was on Mount Everest.

It came from a place of peace,
A place for passion,
And came on the long dusty road,
To a new home.
The dream is now evaporated.