The old man
dragged the body of the wheelbarrow.
Wheelless,
he hauled it
across his washboard back,
firmly holding
the handles
yoked around his neck.
His resolute trudge
over the damp ground
broke as his grip failed him,
and flakes of paint
over rust,
over cold metal,
shed across
the soft white bicep.
He yelled in frustration
as the wheelbarrow
fell away
the heat of abrasion
rattling his shoulders.
