Harvest

The challenge at Real Toads today is to write a poem based on the modern mechanical harvest.  This is just right up my alley because my cornfield was just harvested last week.

Harvest used to be her favorite time.

Dry cornstalks rustling in the wind,

The promise of bills being payed.

When it was over for the year

and the last of the crops were sold,

it was a time to slow down and enjoy

the short days and long nights

at home with her husband.

Now as her son worked to

ready the combine the fear returned.

The memory of lights sitting

still for too long and

no answer on the cell phone,

the long drive in the pickup

to find the combine running

and seeing him bloody and

mangled by the massive machine.

Now harvest meant death and fear,

yet this was her way of life,

and she couldn’t leave the farm.

She kissed her boy and told

him to be safe and watched

him walk to the barn

to begin this year’s harvest.

Bridge

The theme for today at Sensational Haiku Wednesday is bridge.  I have to tell you, I was out there last night with the camera trying to beat the sunset so I could have  a bridge picture.  A bit farther down the path is an even better bridge, but I couldn’t make it there in time.  Oh well, we do have a bridge.

from my heart to yours

an invisible bridge runs

always connected