They were parked in two lines
but not quite furrow straight
We walked through the
static display of old tractors
I read out the name plates of
those dearly beloved brands
now green and red patinas
over mottled paint and flaking rust
Rested greased beasts – loved or kicked
– depending on the maintenance
But my youngest wanted shade
and showed no interest in such things
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Published by Mike Bell Poetry
Mike Bell's expanding collection of poems is his ongoing response to actual moments – conjured memories – and a fearful future.
His ambition is to publish 10,000 poems, and then take a nap.
His writing continues to be reproduced in various formats and journals – he also throws himself out there in occasional readings – open mics and poetry sessions – when his body is willing.
Mike Bell is found working for money as a freelance set designer.
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