Harvest Moon

Still in the field.

Bouncing up and down.

Looking back to the left and right.

Darn! Twine broke again, get the gear.

Electrical tape, switchblade knife, baseball cap, longsleeve shirt,

cowboy boots, and a smile. 

Fix 'er up pretty! Under the Harvest Moon

Retie the twine, stretch it tight. Better wrap that bale tight girl!

Check the grease, ensure the break is engaged. Look over the monster

is she ready for the night? Under the Harvest Moon.

 

Growing dark the 10th hour sets in.

Switch on the lights, the dust arises with each rotation of the tire.

Are you ready for a snack? You ate it hours before. You okay? Under the Harvest Moon.

You are prepared to go all night. Diesled up and feeling alright.

2 a.m. the now silent radio song ringing in your ear.

Everything alright you're in the groove. Under the Harvest Moon.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Diesel Exhaust Fluid. And fourty miles to town. 

Can't continue, until the next fill. Time for a quick rest. 5:30 comes soon. 

Goodnight my tractor. My peace, my scerenity. 

Fairwell Case IH. I shall be back again.

For another night under the Harvest Moon!

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community

Comments

kjpursley

The photo was take August 8th, 2017.

This tractor and bailer made 1,972 bales in 4 days.

Eleven and a half / Tweleve hour days

In one field. North Central Montana.  

In the company of a two year old girl, Brinlee.

BY: Kayceen Pursley

 

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