i'm on a roll

Vain Human Labor

Mining in a pine forest,
For rooster eggs and old ship heads,
Listening for what and who,
Your pickaxe breaks in two.

No more light,
it left with the horses,
A sleigh, that way;
there’s enough pine
But no time.

Forgetting a reason, lost in your heart,
All ships have sailed and words,
Written only on post-it notes
Get lost amongst directions.
Was it north or blu-fin?
5.8 miles then turn left,
Arriving at the soil’s epidermis.
You’re really lost now, but does
It matter?

Did that pick un-soil enlightenment?
Maybe that forest over there
Will offer you more,
A talking rabbit,
A blue stained rainbow,
A treasure box with answers.

But if this be the only green world,
Perhaps you should
Fix that axe,
Set it aside,
And call it a day.