a poem in my pocket

this farm is home base

where i work (if i write,

do i shirk?) don’t ask the

farmer loaded questions;

i’m the farmHer who finds

sweet poetry in life on our

iowa farm, where tall corn

grows, and calves are born

(my poems are calved too)

placental in messy straw.

low mooing of cattle and

hum of machinery drones

on…in rich bass, solid tones

of this daily symphony as

poetry sings higher notes of

melody in quiet moments,

green fields, open space

discovering my place

…oh, gotta go do chores!

Linking to dVerse Poets where Gina hosts poetics tonight…