DON’T MISS OUR MOWER AND TRACTOR SPECTACULAR

Little machines pile up. A watering can splits apart and spreads across the lawn. There’s a shelf lined with jars and industrious spiders work in shifts to crochet lids. We fill the basement up like lungs, while our daughter sprinkles lint; she wants to catch blackbirds that punctuate the driveway. We apologize to worms and slip sunflower seeds into fat pockets of earth. We hope for an ocean of golden means, to raise us from this dirt.