By Winter

Field by Sheila Lamb

By Winter

Poem by Dominique Traverse-Locke
Artwork by Sheila Lamb



By late July,
the pastureland
glows golden. The hay is
belly-button high,
ready to be cut
and dried for a second time
this year.
Muddy pawed rabbits
tunnel underneath, sensing
the imminent harvest.

By mid-August,
the corn is tall and heavy with
plump shucks of milky kernels,
a trellis for half-runners,
blue lakes, and yellow wax beans.
Yesterday, the neighbor’s lost cow
stomped through the cucumbers
on her way to the cabbage.
Today, I hear the repairing
of locust posts.

I breathe deep and notice
the vines already withering,
the earth cracking dry.
I will be, by winter, fatherless.

-refers from the phrase “when blue is the color” in the poem Gray by Julie Ellinger Hunt

  1. beautiful, Dom! We made a great choice!

  2. Wonderfully crafted! The chill at the end is so very like the sudden awareness of an approaching winter.

  3. Wow! I loved the detail and the ending made me stop breathing! Thank you!

  4. Nicky Yurcaba

    As a young woman heavily involved in agriculture, who works as a part-time hand on a farm, I truly appreciate this poem. You give a beautiful description of the hay fields, which brings to mind, for me, the serenity of wandering through a field-sea prior to cutting. I love your line “by winter, I will be fatherless”. When winter comes and the field work is over for the season, I feel slightly out-of-sorts, horribly separated from the earth.

  5. Thank you all so very much for your kind words. Reading your comments has truly made my day!

  6. Alyson Lawyer

    So nice!

  1. Pingback: Farewell Cruellest Month! National Poetry Month Ends at 5Writers.com | Five Writers

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