man of the soil

formed of elements
found in dirt

humble dust
on torn tee shirt

patient farmer
works fertile soil

all year harvesting
hope for toil

plant every spring,
gather in fall

watch crops grow
green, all stand tall

by sweat of brow
coax life from sod

till soul returns
to soil’s God.


We’re playing in the dirt with Bjorn for dVerse poetics this week…

hot news flash

 

in your recipe for spousal stew

will you

even notice i’m on a slow burn?

please turn

me over so that i will brown

(heat down)

lightly and evenly all around

i’ve begun to sweat

broiled into a fret

will you please turn the heat down?!

 


Linking to dVerse Poets where we’re invited to write an “ovillejo” or tight little bundle (of yarn), which is untangled in the final line…