FROM THE PRICE HAMMER
In watching the auction guy go
about his work, I marvel at the
speed of his tongue. Those words
come roaring out, tumbling precise
nothings about tractors and wheels.
-
Farm auctions make me sad; things
being ripped from locations after
75 years and the passages of time.
And people. Old farmer Horace
Wenn, gone and buried now, who
worked this soil for 60 good years.
-
Everything changes; shading their
ways and altering balance. The world
never more tilts nor loses its wobble.
It's we who go down for the
Auctioneer's gavel.
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