Down a
forgotten lane
in a canyon of corn,
a blue ban calls new life to this
old world.

Gather
around the stall.
Don't let the foal's whiney
be an unanswered question to
live ears.

Shaky
legs held us all
when we were fresh and blind
Take pride in teaching to see a
new soul

The march
never tells true
stories of weary legs.
Through great jungles of green and steel,
aching.

Press on,
we urge against
the ground dragging beneath.
Unconquerable, every day
they walk