Thursday, May 29, 2008

Pastorale

He spreads a forkload of straw
across the puddle. Ochre gravel
lines the yard, but every day
he scrapes mud from his boots.

Cheese is up, yogurt down,
figuring in the cost of feed—
from the barn comes the crash
of cows kicking milk cans over.


for Poefusion

Collection available! Knocking from Inside

7 comments:

Wordcrafter said...

It is always a pleasure reading you, beautiful poetry.

Michelle Johnson said...

This is great. I am reminded of how much I miss the childhood farm I grew up on. Thanks for the trip down memory lane. Have a nice day.

Pam said...

This is really nice-- made me want to find a farm.

Jane Doe said...

Simple and halcyon, I enjoyed this poem. It makes me want to head up to my parent's cabin where there is a lot of farmland and life is much slower and simpler. Another wonderful poem.

Lirone said...

I like this - on the surface simple, but very well put together - the words do fit a pastoral context very neatly!

mariacristina said...

Even farmers have their woes. Subtle poem.

tumblewords said...

Nice read! Concisely layered...