Harvest Pressure

-a parable

When the chain jumps a cog
You don't wreck it
But inside the cab is a racket.
You shut down the thresher
To check it
And hope for no bent slats
Or bracket.
You'll gobble a log
Or a rabbit
But choke on a rock if you grab it.

The way to unjump it
Was strain it.
Bars out you'd pry it
And stab it
Maybe completely unchain it
Imparting all your harvest pressure.
What better way
Was there to try it?

An oldtimer sees your displeasure
Frowns at your
Heroic measure
Watches you
Wrench it and rock it
Then gently puts
A nut on the sprocket.
And without ever having
To slack it
He rolls it around to go back. It
Was oldtimer wisdom that got it
Back in treasure
For your pocket.

Now however tempted
To mock it
Ignore it or otherwise
Block it
When age gives advice
(And you know how it tries)
You listen, less likely to knock it.

Four Unhappinesses

The row that you sought to seed, unseeded,
Your thin stand of clover.
The wall that you built, blown over,
The loss of the thing that you needed.