I wrote about fishermen and boats, and the ocean's tugging on them...now it's the landlubber's turn. So I wrote this earlier in the week, or maybe last week. I had just been up north in Aroostook County in potato land where the tractors had been busy plowing and the potato plants have been busy growing.
I wrote and rewrote and deleted and added and started all over when I totally deleted, and finally I think I have what I want. I tried to keep it short and sweet in somewhat the same format as Tugging of Tides.
Tellers of seasons
Plows and harrows,
Tillers and harvesters
Dancing in dirt,
Row upon row of
Timelined soil.
Anchored to acres
Cultivating hopes
Harvesting dreams
With calloused hands,
Loving
The living land.
There is beautiful imagery in your poem - I love the last three lines especailly.
ReplyDeleteIt's lovely, Donna. I like the rhythm you've achieved, sort of time marching (plowing) on, as farmers do follow all the seasons round the year. I especially do like those first four lines, including the juxtaposition of teller & tiller-terrific. It's nice to hear you tell about the process too. The two might be lovely put together with little sketches and/or photos!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem! You really caught the essence of the farmers' love for the land. :-)
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