Grace-I'd-said-I'd-known:
...but, I guess nothing stayed inside,
swallowed by your traded road, tossing
in all of the fated tries. I've weakened in
the rumble, but, I just keep on blasting.
Burned-down-to-the-flue

The holes we made were eyes, never shown &
almost found. You finally lanced the trouble down.
But, which of us goes under? The drive? Or the
dragline?