Here is an oldie, but I hope a goodie, that I wrote two years ago for the Junkyard Poetry blog. Don't know if she is still up and running or not, but I'll check it out later. Anyway, here is one of my contributions...
Garden
Hot sun burns my skin
baking the ground
and the vegetables growing.
Putting down my basket,
I wipe sweat from my forehead
and pant.
Rows upon rows,
vegetables
being birthed from the soil,
lolling obscenely,
waiting to be picked
and eaten.
The sound of cicadas
assault my eardrums.
Wasps dart around my head,
and fire ants wait for a chance
to bite.
String beans on a string,
squash hiding under leaves,
corn drooping,
Tomatoes ripening,
God, I hate okra!
© 2005 Dana Sieben
God bless the farmers who give us food. Bless the vegetables who feed us. I am so blessed to have been raised in the country on a farm. Happy Blog Your Blessings Sunday folks!
Garden
Hot sun burns my skin
baking the ground
and the vegetables growing.
Putting down my basket,
I wipe sweat from my forehead
and pant.
Rows upon rows,
vegetables
being birthed from the soil,
lolling obscenely,
waiting to be picked
and eaten.
The sound of cicadas
assault my eardrums.
Wasps dart around my head,
and fire ants wait for a chance
to bite.
String beans on a string,
squash hiding under leaves,
corn drooping,
Tomatoes ripening,
God, I hate okra!
© 2005 Dana Sieben
God bless the farmers who give us food. Bless the vegetables who feed us. I am so blessed to have been raised in the country on a farm. Happy Blog Your Blessings Sunday folks!
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