He blew us sideways
From here to the end
With wisps of raindrops
Pounding in
And all of which
Kissed dearly to the skin
So that thy eyes
Squinting and slim
Could barely make out
Five feet beyond
Jacket torn and stretched
Fighting as if angry devils
Were trying to take you in
And hardly keeping
This fighting body
From a thorough soaking
Deeply felt
But yet the landscape
Blew on sideways
Shrubs and goldenrod
Bending down
Trees began to wobble effortlessly
As if they were dancing
For the Devil grinning.
He continued to blow on
In to the night
What once we saw
Now could only feel
A constant humming
Beat against the house
That shook and trembled
As if to say
How oddly disturbing
This howling dance
Sent from Gods
Necromance.
Then, all at once
The gale drew back
Passed the land
Left the trees
Fell away from
Each eye squinting
So that dawn broke
Calm and tranquil
All remembering
What in anger
He had spoke.
Category: farming
It’s Not A Job (day 3015)
I’ve been sad lately,
Sad or introspective
It’s sometimes hard to tell
What the difference is,
Isn’t it?
Trying to decide what is better:
Sunset or sunrise.
You know me,
I’ve always been a sunset
Kind of person.
It’s like I’m seeing the end
And not wanting it to end,
Or perhaps it’s
The overwhelming work
Still to be done here.
And yet my hands do not tire
Finding tasks
That take less mental strength
And more physical exertion.
These are nice tasks
That leave me sweating
And feeling like I’ve done
A job that needs to be done.
The Maul (day 3014)
Heavy steel
Grasped into thine clutch
Familiar tool
Ancient use
Simple head
Steel wedge
Attached to a long handle
The maul
Breaks like thunder
Sinews of bucked timber
Flung
Upon the frozen ground
It once lived within
Collected and stacked
Awaiting.
Grace (day 3037)
Cash was at the bottom of the barrel
Wading through a misty mess
Growling at the moon.
Sunk my teeth into what became
Two giant hands, leathery skin,
Forcing me to hold onto
A metal bar that froze my grip
That I had only just begun
To listen to, inside voice
As bubbles floated
In infinite grace.
Splitting Wood (day 3017)
Heavy strain
Chopping block
Flow and muscles
Seedlings (day 2970)
And all at once
The day arises
Seedlings come to life
Play the role
Of Great Giver
Sustenance of life
Blossoms shoot,
Eagles cry,
Sun casts shadows so sharp
And bustling in
To little burrows
A rabbit uses its nose.
Sore Hands (day 2967)
Seventeen cuts
Peeled back fingernails
Blisters ‘midst palms
Delicate (day 2956)
Little steps
On broken promises
Timid
Scared
Viola in the garden
Bushel (day 2954)
This is not the answer nor should it be left misunderstood
Gods carefully listened but none took action
Forgotten and dead lay the bushel of corn
Raspy, hoarse, brown
Thickening day lay low
And Divine Interpretation was a plan that could not be laid
For dead leaves had fallen and no new growth was expected
Until the decaying layers of slumber departed
Swift onset of thaw set in for another season under her breast.
Stopping (day 2945)
My leaving held me to a candle
Where I swore but could not be heard
Callused, I learned a mannered derision
Falling slowly while walking
Heart worn and still spending
Danger amidst comfort
Finding I was working like a man
Field and the ploughs
Dark soil in each finger’s nail
And a candle to my brow
With no time for stopping.