utterly exhausted

can't be bothered with caps and full stops

done in

suspecting

with ample evidence

that age matters

~

i worked hard today

cutting fenceline

the chainsaw was heavy

after summer's heat caused a hiatus

in sweat labor

i ache

~

i've cleared this fence of brush for what seems to be

a long time

i'm sixty-seven

i began at twenty-two

too tired to do the math

i walked five miles today on gravel and hillside

in boots meant for the saddle

would it be repetitive 

if i said i ache

~

confession

i enjoy the this work

and if age is slowing me

that's my tough luck

i enjoy mixing the gas and oil

sharpening the chain

i like the way my forearms and wrists

and the back of my hands are scarred 

from a thousand barbwire and multiflora rose cuts

i don't like the backbreaking labor

but i endure

for the rest

being outdoors

working 

watching the day come and go

stopping to tend the saw

fuel and oil

maybe watch the vultures circling

or some curious deer

or a nose-to-the-ground armadillo passing by

i enjoy making progress

incrementally

i learned the first day i moved here

that there is no end to it

i will never finish

and that's okay

i don't know what i would do otherwise

that means half so much

that leaves me tired but satisfied

semi-recumbent

laptop on lap

typing

thinking about a beer

and the chiefs game tomorrow

and one trick pony

and what she's up to

and feeling too tired to make a veggie burger

but i'll do it anyway

because great tasks are accomplished incrementally