Sunday, October 17, 2010

Sunday Scribbling: Harvest

This week the writing prompt is 'harvest.' I could talk about pumpkins and corn and wheat, but why do that when I can wax morose?

In the autumn
I gather my sorrows
Until the field is empty
Exhausted
I wipe my forehead
With the back of my hand
And look at the stubble
All around me
I smell dirt and
Barrenness

My shoulders stoop
Under the weight
Of my bitter harvest.
Downcast,
I draw no comfort
From the thought that
Come spring
I will once again
Sew my field
With regret

10 comments:

  1. Sad words, but true of the labors of harvest time. Nicely written.

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  2. I could really feel the burden on your narrator's shoulders. The weight of repeating the same things over and over..very powerful..thanks for visiting..Jae

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  3. I see the ruts made by a wagon rollng across fields of sorrow and grief. interesting...provoking...I will chew on this like a piece of straw

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  4. Once again we see here the accurate depiction of the trials of farming; the endless work to put food on our table that we think comes from the supermarket. A sad and reflective piece that shows the circle of life for some is not that easy. Loved it.

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  5. sew with regret,
    sorry to hear that.
    powerful piece.

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  6. There have been many days that I've felt like this. Your poem has definitely captured that sad, introspective mood.

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  7. Why indeed speak of pumpkins when you can be morose! You do it so well. There is no hope here - so sad.

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  8. Oh, I meant in your poem, not you. You are very talented. Hope that came across right. :)

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  9. Thank you. And, @ anacronk, yes, got that, lol. I actually love fall and pumpkins and all that stuff.

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