This small palm-size book is about to leave our bookshop this morning ~ but before it does, I've sat out of the rain with it and much enjoyed its company. Here are a handful of poems.
The book is dedicated ~
For my mother and the memory of my father, who farmed as long as they could.
The book is dedicated ~
For my mother and the memory of my father, who farmed as long as they could.
field of oat shocks,
my childhood hiding
under golden tents
a red rooster feather
in an old straw hat —
how that boy struts!
what a welcome sight —
tractor ruts in the barnyard
filling with rain
walking the fenceline —
a path of cow droppings leads
to the broken wire
unloading oats —
an old grasshopper jumps
-----out of my shovel
first ice rimming
the stock-tank,
the last bullhead belly-up
calf's tongue
stroking my hand
before the fire
___________
from The Furrow's Edge
Farm Haiku
Edward J. Rielly
Juniper Press, 1987
