Silt

Over the fence he leans, speaks of
his time working
the huge hedgeless farms, decades

spent stretched on brown landscapes,
scenes etched into his eyes, where
I see him smoking

in deafening tractor cabs, minding
ploughs behind him
while trawling the rich draining silts,

for all our sakes – the interminable
trails of gulls in his tow

© copyright David Barker 2014

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7 comments

  1. brian miller · August 30, 2014

    hard to come in from the wide open spaces…to a land of hedges and fences….

    Like

  2. Ina · August 30, 2014

    Good poem ! 🙂 x

    Like

  3. Poet Laundry · August 30, 2014

    Enjoyed this DB. Great to “see” you.

    Like

  4. mood wings · August 31, 2014

    “the interminable
    trails of gulls in his tow” … I love this.

    Like

  5. Björn Rudberg (brudberg) · August 31, 2014

    I like how the old man’s life is part of the landscape.. I think in farming that’s how it is..

    Like

  6. wolfsrosebud · August 31, 2014

    each work chosen carefully… like the stokes of a painting… lovely poem

    Like

  7. Betty Hayes Albright · September 13, 2014

    David, I love your images here. Nicely done, as always.

    Like

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