One by One All Day

"Howdy, lem," my grandfather said with his eyes closed
Wiping the eastbound dust from his sunburned brow
A life before doubt.I smell the engine grease and mint the wind is blending
Under the moan of rotting elm in the silo floor.Down a hill of pine tree quills we made our way
To the bottom and the ferns where thick moss grows
Beside a stream.Under the rocks are snails and we can fills our pockets
And let them go one by one all day in a brand new place.