The Dirt

So much sameness in so much
Edgeless alteration, be it blue or grey
Sky or the red and black mud

Of the day. Who in the world
Wonders that so often background
Can credibly be completed, time

And again, by repeating a patch
Without variation? Trick of the brain
Or trick of lazy creation? A serious

Boy works a toy shovel on a slope
Of finely crumbled lava and sands,
Scrutinizing one long glassy hour.