soft stiff lips of iron
fallen from a thousand
stars one day
to the thrill of crickets
turns a hot green field
down to loam
and carries it
for years behind a horse
in furrows ripe with seed

now retired in the autumn
days it sits out
melting sun and rain
beneath a tree
a lazarus for children
who set sail
on its mighty prow
cover for snakes
who bask between red curves
a porch for birds
who sing and peer for insects