I am from an older generation,
raised by my maternal grandparents,
who worked a dairy farm,
where Guernsey cows,
found the salt licks scattered throughout the meadow.
I am from Sunday dinners,
where we had freshly
plucked chickens and homegrown
tomatoes and cucumbers
picked an hour ago.
I am from the duck pond
where I fished in the spring,
caught frogs during the summer,
and ice skated all winter.
I am from the saying "okey dokey"
and six in one hand,
half a dozen in the other.
I'm from a life,
filled with many blessings.
Where are you from?
I am not sure if the last line (the question) is part of your poem or the ending of your post...If it's the end of the poem, I have never seen that question finishing up an "I am from" piece, but it's so logical and really gets the reader thinking about their own lives.
ReplyDeleteI keep forgetting you were a farm girl. Does that account for your always-proper-and-nice disposition? (Can you tell I'm a bit wistful that I'M not like that?)
I love the image of cows finding the scattered salt licks...
Oh My Gosh--this is another one of your poems that doesn't rhyme! Is the Earth going to slip out of its orbit? Will the Mississippi River start flowing north? I'm beginning to wonder.
well my new friend, this is a lovely poem!! My husband is a 3rd generation DAIRY farmer. He bought the farm from his dad who bought it from his dad...:) We have Jersey cows...similar to your guernseys...such a great life isn't it? A hard working life but, nothing better than to raise kids on a farm...
ReplyDeleteagain, my friend love your poem!
have a lovely weekend.
Thanks Sioux. I love your humor! No, the question was not the last line, but you're on to something-it could be. Yes, I am stretching myself in the non-rhyming department. I have 15 more days to go. I'm sure more poems with rhyme will be on my plate, although I am beginning to enjoy the challenge of writing prose poetry. Thank you for taking the time to comment. Thank you again for making up our basket. We had some awesome comments about it.
ReplyDeleteBarbara---
ReplyDeleteI'm wondering if you could take your poem even further, using that question at the end. Perhaps you could ask a series of questions, like "Where are you from? Are you from a neighborhood full of apartments where---at dinner time---all the kids are furiously play, cramming in the last bit of ball and jumprope, while the smell of onions and pork chops waft through the air? Are you from...?" Giving some examples of different types of lives to contrast against your farm life...It's something to consider.
On the other hand, I love your poem just the way it is. I was just thinkin'...
Thanks for the compliment. I'd love to hear what those comments were, when we see each other next. Wrestling around with that chocolate, over and over, with the chocolate winning each time until the final round, was interesting. (I already have an idea for next year's basket, if you're basket chairperson again.)