Felco journey
Johnclarestokes
I no longer chide the old tools
I pretty much let them rest
They’ve spent more than my life
Pruning, hoeing, sawing away
There are younger, sharper, stronger
tools that can do their job
I know one day the Felco will return
just as the LRS trowel eventually did
Somewhere it’s quietly reminiscent
of the hands before me that held it
I await the day, the stories he will tell
Of the muscadine arbors where
he once did dwell.
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