a poem in my pocket

in midwest’s gently green and rolling hills
my farmer grew up living on the land

his father farmed the same fields years before
where now our son is living on the land

i garden in the plot his mother hoed
she taught me ways of living on the land

dependent on both sunshine and on rain
God’s presence witnessed living on the land

the smells and sounds of cattle fill old barn
new calves are birthed and living on the land

we nurture crops and work to feed the world
from dawn past sundown living on the land

i learned to drive a tractor baling hay
lynn, city girl, loves living on the land

Linking this ghazal form poem to dVerse Poets where you can read more!