Farmers Are Never Idle
Harvest is over,
Crops are in, and
Falls's first killing frost
Stirs feelings of melancholy
Sustained by winter's cold,
With its bare trees,
Migration, hibernation,
Wisdom of fallow fields and
Mice attempting entry
During long, cold nights.
Yet farmers are never idle,
Caring for their animals,
Cleaning and fixing equipment,
Checking their fences,
Cleaning fields and
Clearing tree lines.
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Mark Toney © 2019
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11/20/2019 - Poetry form: Idyll
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glassismt
"Glass is Empty" is my Gravatar avatar. It reflects a play on words with my initials, as "Empty" becomes "MT" for my name. The glass represents my transparently fragile creative process. The glass begins to fill as I struggle through the process of writing, becoming full when I (finally!) complete a short story or poem. After publishing the work, the glass becomes empty again, awaiting new inspiration. Empty or full, the glass is always "MT" :) TMI? Oh my! User Location: “Second star t
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