while you’re digging postholes
till your back gives out or listening
to the winds carve their signatures
in the marrow be thankful they say
you didn’t grow up with dirt floors
be thankful they say you’ve never
missed a meal be thankful they say
you can build fence they say you’re
right the world might be a knife
but you can’t be its whetstone


Photo by user:xofc (Own work) [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC-BY-SA-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons.