Twenty years spent digging ditches, climbing through
stacks of detritus, too tall to fathom, too many fathoms to ponder.
Some streaks of weakened light leaked past guarded columns of
life’s waste and want. “I still cannot see the end,” came the distant scream.
“Just keep digging,” called a calm response. “You’ll hit paydirt one day.”
The foreman urged patience and tenacity.
Those digging broke nails and fingers and backs.
“Come election day who do you reckon you’ll be voting for?” Digger 1 asked Digger 2.
Digger 2 did not pause in her labors. “I like that Trump guy.” she said.
“He’s gonna build a big wall to keep them illegals from stealing our jobs.”
“Yep. That’s how I see it,” spat Digger 1.
“Quit your jabbering,” smiled the foreman. “Keep digging.”

