I saw the sower sowing

Horse team and plow

Kicking up tan dust

That furls and curls

Behind them

 

A daylong task

Of sweat and furrow

While dark clouds

Gather in the west

The pace quickens

Rigging jingles and rubs

On dark horse hair

The farmers’ wrists ache

As plow handles twist and turn

 

When the work is done

Farmer detaches plow

Drags himself with the team

Back to the barn

And the rains come

And the seeds rest in their damp soil

To begin their germination

I saw all this close and afar

Rhythms and textures of the land.

 

 

Tom Stock