It will outdo them yet. The quarry diggers
    are no match to the mole who has been there
    before they were, their backhoes and drills
    disturbing the smaller caves with bigger ones.

    A small hole is big enough when all one wants
    really is a shield against thumping diggers
    who remain unaware of their macabre dreams
    of ripping the side of mountains to prepare
    unmarked tombs for their yet unborn children.

    The mole will be there in its hole, taking over
    with a colony of small cave diggers when quarries
    close down at the siren of a final day when days
    are done, and there is little hope beyond sundown.
    From porches we will holler: In moles we trust.

    —Albert B. Casuga

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