By Staff

N8103 City Trunk C, Casco, Wl, 54205

The old tractor stood near the barn door,
It really did deserve more.

One of the rear tires was flat,
Looked so lonely where it sat.

Almost leaning against the wall,
Waiting for a nonexistent work call.

The once bright orange paint,
Is now rusty and faint.

Parts just seemed to disappear,
What happened to them is not clear.

Back when the farmer was young,
This machine’s engine surely sung.

Sunrise to sunset,
The farming needs were met.

Man and his helper would toil,
Together they worked the soil.

A bond was formed out in the field,
But time would not yield.

When their working days came to an end,
On each other they could depend.

Grandpa departed from this earthly stay,
His tractor was left to decay.

Gas Engine Magazine
Gas Engine Magazine
Preserving the History of Internal Combustion Engines