Sunday, April 25, 2004

This was submitted to me by C.S. Elliott for printing in Loos Lips.

American Farmer

Before heading home the farmer takes one last look at the
green and brown patchwork fields laid out like a quilt
covering mother earth and then directs his gaze toward the
shy and says thank you Lord, for another good day.
A big old yellow dog slowly wags his tail as he waits
impatiently watching for the combine to come home and park in
the lean-to. Soon the wagging tail stops then speeds up as
the combine comes round the bend and into view.
The dog spots the old familiar weathered hand of the farmer
grasping the bar to swing down from the great machine that
plucks food from the earth. After many years of working the
land the farmers hand has taken on the characteristics of the
hard dry soil.

The soil that has become a part of him just like a vital
organ. But now his old tired bones ache from the long days
ride and he stretches his back as he descends the great
machine to place his foot firmly upon the earth. One small
step for man, one giant leap for mankind.
He pats his awaiting companion on the head while
murmuring "We got another field done old boy, now lets go see
what's cooking".

Together they slowly drift towards the kitchen light like a
moth drawn to a flane, they inhale deeply as the door comes
nearer. The smell attacks their nostrils, makes their mouths
water and reminds them how the day is long.
Shedding all his worries with the old worn boots at the back
door the farmer makes his way to the bathroom to wash off
some of the corn dust and sunshine.

Across the supper table he sees his wifes' smiling face, the
nourishing food that he grew and his spirit begins to renew
itself. For with the rooster crow comes a new day and the
opportunity to feed and clothe America. And the farmers feels
the pride in his work and is glad to be an American farmer.
The end.
by C.S. Elliott

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Andrew on day 2 of COVID, and in 1692 the people had enough of the Salem witch trials