The Aged Farmer

Upon the soft soil, cushioned down,

I walk on knees and pray

with seeds, row on row,

for harvests months away.

No breath so slow but quickens

at smell of fresh-turned earth.

The damp brown earth gives promise

of never-ending birth.

Leslie T. Wells, Long Island farmer, c. 1956

Published by

Jim Evans

Writer, composer, arranger, poet. Have been teacher, farmer, deckhand, bartender.

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