A Poetry Showcase Award submission
The Farmer
It was the earth I fell in love with,
I swear it was.
It was the feel of the dirt clods crumbling
In my soft palms, the smell
Of the hay and the sage and strawberry plants,
The sun glinting through the ocean haze, the fields
Rolling past like water running down a hill,
All glistening with wheat and grapevines,
It was the way the dust coated my jeans.
The earth is more fertile than the city,
And I’d fallen in love before.
There’s something about it that feeds
Even when it’s not eaten,
It’s the way the sun shines, angles off the cap
That protects your face from the harsh rays,
It’s the remedy for the lonely evenings with
Nothing but the radio playing love songs.
I don’t know anything about him,
Except that he knows the earth, and
Wears a cap to keep the sun off his face, and His jeans
Are dusted like mine. He shows the children
Where the best strawberries grow and how
To pick them, to lift under the belly and
Gently remove the stem, to eat it right away.