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bear by san

March 2017

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sf star trek horta/spock

take a drink just to give me some weight

Goldfinches, by the way, are totally why I plant sunflowers.

2011 08 03 garden and goldfinch 002

Well, and I love sunflowers.

Which reminds me that last night, while working on a different poem, I found a poem I wrote last year and had apparently forgotten all about. So I thought I'd share it here.



Yankee farmer with your half-acre in flowers
and your forty acres in hay;
your dust-bathing hens hunkered
in the shade of the coop--rust, white, periwinkle
(the color of a civil twilight);
your pigs in their wallow, fatting on spoiled tomatoes;
I know you.

I know your feed cap and your farmer's tan and your coveralls.
I know the dust and chaff on your boots.
I know your shaggy ridiculous long-horned Scottish cows,
the chafe of frozen knuckles in the spring night cold
as you labor with her, turning the calf so she can be born.
I know the work of harvesting onions,
the ache of back and hamstrings,
the long windrows laid to cure in the sun.

I know the cosmos and lupins,
the daylilies, butterfly bush, Shasta daisies,
snapdragons, sunflowers--the sunflowers! Crimson, lemon,
orange, streaky and clear, golden petals dipped in rust,
and each with a brown-black velvet eye--
I know the way the heavy sunflower dips and sways
under the impulsive weight of the goldfinch.

I know your turkeys gleaning in the fields.

I know your farm shares and your farm stands and your farmer's markets.
I know your green apples fallen beside the road.
I know the rocks in your field, new-turned every spring,
and the life of a limpet or a lichen clinging to the scraped dome of glacial stone.

There's forty acres in hay and thirty-nine in vegetables.
There's a spotted boar awkwardly straddling a jaded sow.
The half-acre in its untended riot lies by the road.
The neighbors think your farm pretty.

A white tree with a weeping habit
trembles but stands in the long wind,
alone.

March 2010
August 2010



It's not my best ever, but maybe I will fix it someday.



Comments

Goldfinches are so pretty. We have a pair at the moment: we lure them with black thistle seed.
That's a strong poem.
Thank you!
Goldfinches are the only reason I break down and ruin the black-and-red-and-purple goff garden colour scheme that takes up my .1 acre and plant yellow sunflowers in with the reds, every year. I've found they like the yellow ones better, the vain little creatures. I must oblige them.

The poem is good, nostalgically evocative stuff to me as it stands. But I've learned poems are for tweaking, always, so I understand the sentiment.
Thank you!
It's not my best ever, but maybe I will fix it someday.

Or you could send it to a mainstream poetry magazine, because it's quite good.
Thank you!

I feel like there's a thematic thread that isn't quite ringing out yet, somehow.

Thank you!
Thank you! Adorable kitten!
Love the poem. I also plant sunflowers for the goldfinches. The flowers come up to my kitchen window so I have easy viewing.
thank you!
FLUFFY COWS!!!

COOOS!
A+ Backyard birding. :D
I really enjoyed your poem. Now I know too :)
thank you!
That is a gorgeous poem, strong and evocative.
thank you very much.