It’s plowing time again

my plow-blade shaped heart
sticks out and hurts

driving the countryside
it plows the green-blanket fields

driving the city
it plows up the concrete walks
smashes signs
and rakes down power-lines

as I sit alone in my bedroom
it rips the mattress springs out
and tears holes in the ceiling

when I’m in my grave
it will stick out of the ground
they can’t bury me deep enough

but just for now
it sticks out and hurts
funneling cold rain into my chest
from a day that started out warm