farms and fields

i feel as though I have always been a bit
condescending in farming areas
disdaining
the odors and the low flying crop dusters.
i can smell the difference between
cows and pigs,
dusts drifting in the air.
cutting hay and cut hay.
pollinating corn and irrigated pollinating corn.
tortures my nose

but I was a farm girl
milked cows, stacked hay
scooped.
raised fluffy chicks
made sausage
sold eggs and sweet corn to earn money for college.
chopped thistles in Nebraska farm country
with my beloved cousins.

my family never hungered.
I drank a gallon of milk a day,
knowing, deep in my soul
that one day
I would take medicines that would chew
holes in my bones.

without that milk
my bones would now be brittle
and i would be bedridden.

i was still a bit arrogant,
I think.
now I read The County Road Journal.
stories of starving
in the Horn of Africa.
i turn off my nose
and honor these farmers.
so few left.
nearly all ruined by endless catastrophe.
actually
putting life in peril
to feed us.

One comment

  1. And honor them we must….how they still find the drive and willingness and challenge worthwhile is hard to fathom. Never having lived on a farm I love the stories related by all I have met that have been part of this honorable life.

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