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…
III.
a poem in my pocket 
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