singularly none yet all be done
not a gang to call my own
home for a husband who is seeded
a place to win when a union's defeated
egg safely put into another basket
when the baggage that ties men down
leaves no choice but to mask it
stone upon stone the bridge be done
never a crew but still transgressed
a river to cross, somewhere to go
forded alone when the marsh is slow
see the path of your same old ground
give up hope that you'll be found
George had his Lennie to dote upon
and i a wife for all i can give
made it through, what does it do me?
random rocks singularly come
wherever a back hoe pushes them
there a river still runs
8-7-13
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