The post
Be straight
Rock hard
Dependable
Since before I was born
It was there
Set into the cold hard ground
By someone long gone
For reasons unknown
My grandfather
Broke the axle of his tractor on it
When the post only stood two feet high
It didn't move an inch when it happened
Nor when my grandfather
Blew himself up
Trying to set explosives around it
Covered in what was left
Of my grandfather
It stood stock still
Hard as the darkness
An enigma
In the night
The years gone by
Have seen the post grow
Though I know
It's the wind
And erosion of the soil
Sounds prettier to say it has grown
So I will
The post
Has grown
It now stands over six feet tall
And still it stands firm
My father tried to dig it up
He got down about ten feet
My mother says
Before the sides of his hole
Caved in
The safety rope he had around him
Served no purpose
Except to make it possible
To pull his limp body from the ground
Which sucked back shut
As he came free
He's buries near my grandfather
In the town cemetery
Now I stand here
Regarding the post
I size it up
It measures six foot four inches tall
From the earth
Exactly twenty four inches in circumference
If I squint
I think I can see writing upon it's cold grey skin
But when I look closer
It's nothing but a closed book again
Placing my hand upon it
I sigh deeply and walk away
I'm breaking the chain
I will never try to remove it
It will not claim my life this day
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