The hardest thing to find
In the world above us
Won't be diamonds
But quality things
Created to last and not to fail
In the exercise of pure
And simple duty
Like grandfather's sinuous sythe
I liked to take out of the shed
Attacking big weeds with
It's razor sharp blade
Frankly loving the feeling of power I got
Swinging its great curves with arms
Pumped up with a cutting thrill
Cock-step swinging its blade through the weeds
Watching them fall with such a little effort
Around and through the garden rows
Anticipating our harvest to come
Cast iron skillet, corn bread, tomatoes with chocolate pies
Made more perfectly than any child in me imagined
Back there in Granny Carrie's fantastic kitchen
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment