An Old Shovel
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Written August 12, 2023
For Contest, “An Old Shovel”
Sponsor, John Lawless

Upon this rusted hook, I've hung for years;
I can't recall when I last touched the ground.
The rust on me is creeping- oh, my fears-
I'll just be cast away and never found!
You see, right next to me- a newer one
so shinny-bright, with an unblemished blade,
is always used- their fave has now become!
They leave me here alone- feeling betrayed.
But then, one summer day, their Grandpa came!
He graciously pulled me from that old hook-
then patted me with love- to then proclaim,
“I need to borrow you, my friend”- and took
me to the garden, which was overgrown,
to manage it as we did long ago;
since then- neglected, wild, and left alone.
Together, we set memories aglow.
An old, worn shovel, with no purpose, hung;
A senior Grandpa, with old, rigid hands;
A vegetated garden- gone unsung!
Each, with the other- old age understands.
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2023
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