At Work

Day turns to Night,
Night turns into Day,

Behind me, before me, and then all around,
Shades of light wax, wane, and turn,
As in a heaving bosom,
Mornings rise and fall.

Like the dried up bark of a Joshua tree,
I press on to my tomorrow,
For 5000 years.

Still working,
Through Rain, chill, and frost,
Through Skies clear, blue, and stormy.