The backhoe, the dump truck, the dozer, the digger,
With mountains of gravel that grow ever bigger;
From daybreak till dark (be it autumn or vernal)
Never miss a local story.
As weeks turn to months (is this project eternal?)
The milling, the filling, the piling in heaps;
Equipment reversing (incessant the beeps)
The neighbors are frazzled, their patience is missing —
So weary of closures, of rumbling, of hissing…
But one day the din and the clamor diminished —
The locals rejoice, for the project is finished.